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Conjolted Poetry

Conjolted Poetry

Monday, 31 March 2014

The bearded fellow.

I used to watch you...
all intricate and placid
dressed like a mannequin .
You looked wise, acted it too,
maybe you had me fooled.

You never sat to ruminate
You were always on the go
like you needed the Lou,
But never on a grand scheme,
simply revolving go nowhere,
like a guinea on a tread mill.

You had taste like coleslaw,
yet no patience to go slow,
always getting good things,
to flaunt not treasure them,
then sell them off cheap-
to first bidder when broke,

I always thought beards
symbolised wisdom, ayeh,
you were just a wise-ass,
somewhat a wiseacre,
one that lied too much;
lies smooth as lashes

It be true that you're pious, thank God,
maybe that's why you're a bearded fellow
alas one that never pulls at them to think.
I wonder why I thought you wise?




The bearded fellow II is a good insight on this poem

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