Delinquents Of The Overture Poem by Darryn John Murphy

Delinquents of the overture
How is it now that you are pure
No slave I’ll be to fits of fashion
I’ve felt the heat of endless passion

Less I be, then laugh at thee
Who comes to look and honour thee
What world I leave, I leave behind
Presume upon the polished dime
Beneath the seeds of senseless crime

Delinquents of the overture
How is it now that you are sure
Have you an answer or a cure

Rift before thee razors knife
Vestige be this waste of life

Live and breathe unless ye see
For the bells of tolerance call to thee
What daylight gives it takes away
To burden thee beneath the gray

Even when life seems unsure
There are hardships that we must endure
But that is part of life’s allure