“She is drooping, Hold her alright!”, Someone, who came to c heck Upon on the sprite, cried. “She can’t hold her neck, Stick a yarn from the ceiling She could then may hold up straight And face up with her weight.” The lips quivered with a faint croak “They say it’s hung in shame, They have a list, a mile too long, Stay away or the curse rolls along. Lack of compassion, and secession. Derision, condescension, a Scarlet, one hollered. Too many to recall, I can hardly remember. Empathy was chic and so lack of it was chalked in.” Yet in pain so visible, She felt at ease. “The list was now too long, So, superfluous sympathy was left out.” Every second she seemed less pale, And more eager to tell her tale. “Bear along, you kind soul. I won't budge till you stand up straight.” “Shhh… It is not the consequence, Missy, to droop down is the choice. Let them have the i...
Banters of an enamoured soul, in all shades of grey. Life. Poetry. Some Proses. Light and Dark.