Beset to mourn, in fits
Of black and blue,
Misaligned structure
Of mangificent creation.
The cause of my agitation
Surrendered to man-made bondage.
Disdained to ambivalent
Butlering, with mindful attention,
Ignorant and aching,
I wait

Now, sitting to write what
Burns to be said
Why did this happen
Why did this happen
To me
Why did this happen
Still believed, things
Happen for a reason, but lost
Am I
To ill-tempered
Yet still I wait

Now, sitting to contemplate what
Yearns to be doe
What saying to be
What prayer to be
What spell to be
Cannot good intention outweigh
Affliction and hold down misfortune
Which now avail me in
Pain and nostalgia
I cry, alleviate this situation
And bear down with chains
Unwanted luck!
Yet, still I wait

“Thought” Fortune

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