Dan Reynolds (Justiceville)
A contract of contrition.
How sorry can a cynic really be?
How can we tell the real tears from the croc’s?
How can we trust the words they let us see
without the words they write outside the box?
The morphing of the morphine-addled brains
confirm then contradict themselves with ease.
The serpent sits behind and draws the reins,
to steer them further into their disease.
The dark disease that lets them fool themselves.
Which waves a tragic wand, then wafts away
to hide behind imaginary elves
who take both blame and credit for the fray.
How sorry can a cynic really be!
No $hit, Sherlock! But why’re you asking me?
Comments about this poem (A contract of contrition. by Dan Reynolds )
People who read Dan Reynolds also read
Top 500 Poems
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
William Ernest Henley