By Sally Holland
My wings are frayed from life’s abuse,
No chance to be rescaled,
My song has bayed, its tone reduced.
My muscles now curtailed.
Could I but change what gave me this,
The farces and the facts,
The fortunes gained and those I missed,
My adolescent acts.
Without the spray, the past turns gray,
Gradation’s gone amiss,
The highs and lows have gone cliché,
Delight is now abyss.
Erosion on my outer wing
Seems no harsh price to pay,
For lesser gray and unsung wins,
And deeper laughs at play.
I cannot pass those deeper laughs,
Don’t want to leave them out,
The sad is fine to my frayed mind,
If I still get to shout.
My wings are frayed, my heart infused,
With fascinating tales,
Synapses play, my mind’s amused,
I sip on those cocktails.