Four Fingers Poem by John Sensele
Four Fingers
When a frail finger froths at the mouth others to accuse
Four fingers boldly from me blessings, graces, favours refuse
No matter how crafty my ruse
From tricks and traps let my soul recuse.
Booze and blues me they use
Loss for me queues
Humility, simplicity, let me always choose
If my Heaven-bound voyage I shouldn't lose.
Thursday, May 4, 2017
Topic(s) of this poem: poems
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4/26/2024 6:14:14 AM # 1.0.0.1119
