Ironically enough, Fay Roberts was asleep (with a migraine) so couldn’t write Sloth last night. Hence it being late. (Ze thinks it’s likewise only fitting that ze’s chosen the sonnet form with the fewest rhymes…)
You can’t let tyrants rob you of your sleep;
you need some peace and quiet for a while.
Just let them rant and spill out all their bile;
if that’s what virtue looks like, they can keep
it, sticking to the herd with all the sheep.
Exert yourself? You’d rather run a mile
than keep up with the pious rank and file.
It’s better to lie low than take the leap.
But whispers filter through your sweet, white noise:
“This good man’s doing nothing…” outright lies!
You’re just recuperating former poise
(if wallowing was sport, you’d take the prize)
Ambition stalled – those others took your toys;
how dare they shout to claim your starry skies?
 |
| Photo by Stockcake |
No comments:
Post a Comment