The Worry In My Sorrow Poem by John Sensele

Never again would I feel sorry
To tell my story, to spell my worry
Heightened, brightened up by glamour
Felt deep within the heel of my clamour.

Never again would I open my heart
To depart from love, to make a new start
Although I'd pluck up courage to lay siege
To prospects of a binge or the liege of privilege.

Never again would I dare to speak
In tongues or my tongue to click or flick
If a damsel my head in awe should turn
Although in end my heart she would burn.

Never again would the lure of honey
Blind me to trade my soul for money
When banknote rolls in my face shine
Although my soul sorrow would refine.