Darting Quarry - Poem by John Weber
With my tempered determination,
I'm obscured from my destination
by scheming whispers striking malicious
at my spirit thrusting seditious.
The court remains a dutiful sort
as they track down competitive sport
with dogs mowing down the scent they place
to ensnare pests they wish to erase.
One whimpering whelp kicks in the dirt,
hiding pleasure behind his alert
as drooling brutes prepare to assail,
allowing fraud to waggle each tail.
Flanking limited hope for movement,
they stave my pursuit of improvement
to pare my fiber when I adhere
with force of purpose flexing through fear.
With potent breaths, I break through the line
before their systematic decline
until they fall tangled beneath lies
to reveal the wheel behind their prize.
I wave goodbye without any shame
for not surrendering to their game
at the end of the day they'll look back
in disgrace at their baseless attack.
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