The Scream Of The Reader
The demands of others are paramount …
Relentless, they are – in sickness and in health.
Unyielding in their vying for your attention.
Be warned …
Yes! Yes! A story!
A story of infinite glory!
Have you ever met a spineless wonder?
How about a spec of thunder?
“To each his own”, says the needy,
mainly to brave the trickling pity.
But wait for the punchline; it will come in time.
Once upon a corner of “what’s yours is yours”
and “what’s mine is mine”,
lived a crying mime of the lying kind.
He was a restless dreamer and a fickle schemer
who procrastinated nary a second but most of the time.
– Dramatically spoken to awake the unbroken:
“My! But my silence falls loudly on deaf ears!”, he cries.
“I sigh for my words bear the weight of a thousand tears!”
“Now, for those for whom the world turns”, he continues,
“fate mourns the passing of fear with each resolved issue.
Who among you will run with the hunt …
merely to dine on tiramisu?”
Then, pointing to no one in particular, he resumes his tune,
“Alas! I dreamed of the many, but remembered only the few.”
Okay, you can pay him no mind.
As I suggested previously,
he was just wasting your time.
Please don’t squander your screams
on this peddler of “nothing it seems”,
for his inanity will swallow you whole
and you, too, will begin to wonder eventually
why the “bole” in “hyperbole”
does not rhyme with “bowl”.