Written March 2019
Flailing sails waft silently as I wail
Waving my grey napkin.
I'm frail.
And, my reaction is stale.
As I graciously yell,
"Goodbye!"
I'm a shell of my former.
It's a long forgotten tale.
Culture gained,
Though, I failed.
To end the war
That my love fought for.
I abhor
Violence in scores.
Hatred in hordes.
Losers that's sore.
Cowards and more.
What is this for?
What's the reward?
Primitive mail
Hard like hail
Piercing sharp nails
As obstacles block the trail.
None of this matters, though.
It's all just age-old.
No change as history pages fold.