When red-ribboned wrapping’s torn <br />from faded fabric of jaded life we live, <br />society’s conventions shorn, <br />hallucinogen highs earn disrepute, urned scorn. <br />Few steadfast, fair reflection give. <br />'Unto thyself be true! ' boon sworn, <br />soon perjured. Fear, Fate, Fame feed opiate additive, <br />poppy field forgetfulness foresworn, <br />spring puppet frame string fancies few forgive, <br />when scrutiny tests unrest's groove forlorn <br />trail railwayed, second thoughts stillborn. <br />Fortunate had most failed to form, <br />ghost feelings, feeble boast, toast featureless, host soul sieve.<br /><br />Jonathan ROBIN<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/superficiality-2/
