A sense of loss...
Here is again born the stature of a child...
A child is again born...
Take me from this weak misery--
Strong again, like a playground bully.
Strong again, like an oblivious smart child...
Here is again born the stature of a man...
a man is again born.
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I wish there was some moral or didactic quality to this work, for no other reason than to put a conventional wind to my sails, to stop a free-drift to literary oblivion; but like a typical atheist who, before his slaughter, will no doubt seek the aid of God, I too, despite contrary conviction, am forever destined to wordy, generally incoherent and long-winded canvasses of thought. James Majoros http://cavalcades.blogspot.com/
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