The Rogue Rising Poem by Biff McGuire

I feel the rogue is rising up
Like dark rings in my coffee cup

My secret self who once gave chase,
To demons; dark, that time erased

The source of troubles, fears, and wants
With all it’s vice, in dingy haunts

The vagabond from stories old
With visions of his share of gold

The spirit hidden deep within
Passed down in life from ancient kin

Who traveled trails from east to west
Gave up the comfort of a nest

And softened hands to touch his skin
That coaxed and told him of his win

If he remained with soul untainted
Heavens’ glory there she painted!

I feel; I am he, once again
With youth and health, no sign of pain

I never feel the broken leg
I fuse and light the powder keg!

That blows from here, to “kingdom come”
The boredom and the silent hum

The shelter, food and comfort here
This melancholy life and fear

Suppressing there the rogue within
Forbidding him to rise again.........