Poetic Interlude XXII

I toast my few remaining friends
That I can’t seem to lose
(Though loyal to the utter end
They don’t support my views)
The spin and spurn my brethren
From pristine, primrose, pews.

The holy fire still comes to me
From lonely time to time
Though all I love is lost at sea,
And I am drowned in wine –
I cannot fall to apathy:
Tomorrow will be mine.

©2013 by Tyler J. Yoder. All rights reserved

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About Ty DeLyte

Madame DeLyte has suffered a grave disappointment - YET AGAIN - and still believes that freedom, beauty, and truth are what's valuable, rather than vulgar cash. He'd add love to that list - but, well, what can he say about love?
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