Panacea
30/4/06
And yet again,
Months of conjecture,
Manuscripts of waiting,
Road-signs of hope,
All quashed with one line.
"I'm not"...
And "I've never" beens
How strange,
Yet how placating,
I loved to know now, and for sure.
My, my-
It was surely you,
But some say it was agape
And that little Miss Muffet
Thought the bowl of chow mien was her curds and whey.
No wonder the spider
Never came beside her,
No wonder the sizzle
Had turned to fizzle,
Because, when she sat on her tuffet,
She raised her rose-tinted glass,
And became what was known, as someone in a delusion.
She forgot she was in a nursery rhyme,
Where things sometimes
Don't end fine.