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Poetry
2019-04-29 12:00:00 +0000
Introspective
Fraudulent Charges poetry

His fear of the unforeseen arose, Which he thought t'was vanquished long ago. Alas, He found his faith in illusion: A financial foundation To cope with confusion.

Words and the wind Could now freely hold sway With the worst of his worries The most willing to stay:

"Worthless are you, Workaholic Anonymous! Heartless are you To become autonomous!"

They raged until He raised himself Back up from the ground.

"I hear you, wind. I hear you, words." Until he heard Only sound.