Drift Poem by Robert Mutsaers

You could come if I asked you to, no?
I do not see the sense in it...
Trouble me with something else,
A gift or fruit of life,
Something,
A something in the least..

I recognize, steal and give,
for you to understand and for me,
A prone evil I see..

Evil within sacrifices sense,
No less than a pretense,
A curse from above,
A fence..

You could not see even if I asked you to?
You do not become the sense for it,
Trouble me with something else,
Something,
A you in the feast..