Modest Credos

Selfish Lament

Reap the fruit while it hangs from the tree

before it falls and loses its glee

Moan not that you have nothing to eat

for what once was ripe rots at your feet

This day exists not

It is but an illusory plot

Therefore the morrow is naught

So why then must we give thought

to the preachers who say we ought?

Please give me the answers I seek

for blessed you said are the meek

I have been patient for so long

Am I in the right or the wrong?

With eyes closed, in dreams, please shine light

on the darkness that is my plight

Reveal to me the truths of life

Spurn the lies of which it is rife

She said I can never leave him;

though, where does that leave me?

Unable to fulfill my own dreams and desires;

verily, I will wilt and grow old young.

But I lost my youth long before I even became one.

With powders and rouge -

she chases the clock of youth -

to create a ruse