ARGOSIES OF LACK

Just a piece of poetry

              ARGOSIES OF LACK



Look at the beige crescent of human forms

A homely hirsute specter unveiled

Argosies of lack flew over their heads

In stricken eerie banshee screech

They sulked cantankerously



Stricken gasp of dismay

Do we feel despicably remiss

That something has gone amiss

Wroth with stentorian wrath

We mirror the dreadful portent of our own decay



Globules of perspiration

That glistered like transparent pearls

Swelled like opaque blisters

A minimum wage foisted

Deft grimace of tribulation