A poem #69 – A shallow awakening

“A man’s riches consist not in the extent of his possessions
but in the fewness of his wants.”
If this is so, then I am truly the poorest soul alive.

By the pungent allure of crisp, green notes
I am feverishly ensconced;
where blackening bubbles loom luxuriously, maleficent and contrived.

With my eyes I can see perfectly,
and yet I am so blind.
Searching deep within my heart for love, and yet nothing is all I find.

JP Collins
Paraphrasing J Brotherton

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