Je suis Fatigue – Not poetry, An Explanation.

A propagation of the truth will leave the scholarly in vagueness

As to why a damsel in her 21^st century still feels distress

See that?

Yes I’m tired of writing proper English

To explain to you damsels how life tingles

I mean, I owe know thing nothing

Yet, today I sit, turning in this widening gyre

Fatigued

Where I, the falcon, refuse to hear the falconer

Turning and falling…

A conformist? No, a reformist – a renegade maybe?

Yet this story must be told, anarchy must be loose upon mankind

My pal whispered two me just the other day

Saying, he had rich a point of disdain

He recalls the days of old

When life was as simple as a cold

Chale Kwame, man is tired!

The girl is but a nuisance, I cried trying…

Things had fallen apart for Yaw

His center couldn’t hold

He fought for his right to love

Yet anarchy took over

And like my right to try to continue using unnatural English

Nature would not allow it

For nature tires

The deceit

We always seem to fight for things that seem right in plain sight

Yet refuse to take a step back and in plain thoughts ask ourselves

Is this right?

Nature has a way of correcting itself

Try as much, but A can never B O

‘We are meant to be together’ – you think?

Have you consulted with your gods about this thing you call together and think?

Well call me a damn fool, but care have I none,

But for love’s sake stab lust out with a stake.

Lust is tired of being called Love

It told me

Now Yaw, blinded by lust thinking twas love

Rests his head on my lap weeping to himself a song

Je suis fatigue, this is love lost.

But alas, je suis fatigue- this is lust lost!

Shall I rejoice? Well…

The 21^st century damsel certainly was a damn sell

She sold all his lust-love for a damn cell

Call her Delilah if you please

But she n’est pas fatigue de lust.

Very hot,

She is still the love lost lust contains.

 And on a collar, she still roams with love lost hang from her neck.

FIN.