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...And in amongst the deepest
thorny bush,
Grows
The rose
Of finest white.
Christina!
Her Glory to perceive!
Sometimes I seem a friend to you,
At others, a tiresome trouble
To be cast aside,
Lest my clodhopping feet
Stamp on the fun,
Your focus... elsewhere.
Cocaine! That sweet substance
Of the bitterness of a thousand shattered dreams
And inducer of blindness amongst the sighted,
How dare you afflict
We, who see, but never touch?
Forgive me.
For I grow weary of being the Jester
At the Court of clowns and fools.
By Robert L Thompsett