where you doubt
and where you need
this is where the demons feed
the creases 'twixt your double chins
the places where your hair is thin
where paradigms not recognized
are challenged by those let inside
when expertise is proven false
and deferred passions raise their costs
beyond what hearts can bear
it never was about the thing
more dear was hearing people sing
your name in songs of praise
truth is your armor's full of chinks
and underneath balbriggan stinks
no wonder windmills never fall
now whence you go beneath this pall
for nothing is a finer measure
than where you go from here
© 2016 Frederick Andrew ~ All Rights Reserved
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