Take heart, be your latest hap,
The descent of that abominate curtain
Bringing long, gray days, bereft of gladness
An unwelcome, metamorphosis,
From reposing pleasure, to unsettling fear
And of confident capability, to
Misgivings and useless inaptitude.
In a trice, do such vile curtains fall
On hapless targets, obliged to barter
Erstwhile perception and joie de vivre
For amorphous doubt and unseen danger
That heavy, dark and musty curtain
Will bring to any hapless soul
Amorphous fear of exotic peril
A shade- darkening of persona’s nuance
Annulment of hope and dreams of enterprise
It ‘cumbers creative potential, and
Quarantines prior confidence, and
Erstwhile assurance of self-image
Wreaks destruction on natural spontaneity
And snare- hobbles interactive sociability.
It is painful injury, sans prior incident
Arbitrarily imposed, lacking tenable cause
A sudden insult to the human chemistry
Awarded alike, to the admirable and perverse.
But, do keep faith, ere long, the vile curtain lifts
A neon-lemon moon and diamond-sparkling stars,
Will proclaim renewed warmth and reincarnated joy.
Leonard N. Shapiro – Kingston, N.Y. 9/12/22
Dear Pliny,
This is such a beautiful and heartfelt poem. It brought tears to me eyes while reading it. You really did capture its essence and broad effects. Thank you for sharing this, and for offering hope.
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