How I scare with the
burning blue of the
costume of colonial youth.

Maybe a little juvenial in
my illusions of wealth and wine.
When struggles of plagues,
and France long gone.

How I insult you,
but it is my anger
and confusion of life
gone dry.

Yet ghouls and goblins
do not strike fear in my
imagination of my youth.

Only struggles and hatred
of the unsure past and present
drives me to strike with full
venoms blast.

And I know that love and
any illusion of it is long
past gone.

No longer the fool but the pawn in
your hand.

10/30/2006

Posted on 10/30/2006
Copyright © 2024 Christopher Shin