A Twist In A Damsel's Mist Poem by John Sensele

Three cheers for the damsel
Who despite numerous reverses
Smiles for souls who fell
In love upon assimilating vivid verses

Which struck cores and stores of emotions
Moved to mercy bereft of ecstasy
Stimulating motions and demotions
Sometimes driven to a fallacy

When real life drifts into so much sorrow
To the extent where hope
Seems to die together with tomorrow
Whose prospects grope for dope

Although faith
Beaten into submission
Rises and slays the wraith
For whose motion emission

Damsels cry
Arguing societies immersed in spiritual and moral theories
Hardly try
To rid themselves of dictactorship diaries

Where they pigeon-hole
Good and bad
At a level where their North Pole
Feels sad and mad

When societies despite their claims fail
Abysmally to resolve conundrums
Damsels negotiate in an unresolved hell
That forever beats drums

Telling society to get real
To stop resorting to simple solutions
To complex issues that feel
As if societies recycle through motions

Instead of tackling topical matters
Whose resolution
Though painful scatters
Uncertainty in the lotion

That offers cosmetics
Rather than promoting moves
To the next level beyond semantic gymnastics
Whose gist in a twist of mist proves

Futile at best and sterile at worst
In comparison to the pain and strain
Damsels absorb as if cursed
To sustain perennial strain in the main

Without an end in sight
Prompting damsels to deride efforts
Parents and their generations present to fight
Pains and strains damsels' escorts

Bear as they fare badly
In a context of no war, no peace
When they confront sadly and madly
Pesky problems in a world whose woes seem neither to cease nor decrease.