the dreary, wary fawn?
for anything, that came along,
has never stayed so long.
dry the tears of pain;
for tiredness has been made plain.
no further interest in dealing
with anything that belongs to living.
don’t even try to understand
this clustered verses that seem grand.
no deep definition.
no need for attention.
no gathered souls to mention.
a nefarious grasping hole,
construed with some sticky cloistered mold.
the suffered pain is maintained;
owning everything it’s ever opened.