Fraudysseus

I graduated Nobody,
Escaping in bellwether fur
Mistaken by its cosiness.

My one-eyed Education writhed
In agony of blinding pain
My passioned pen inflicted deep.

I should have listened to my peers
Who spoke of patient temperance
In stormy waters of the world.

But I, emancipated wrath,
Ebullient bravado-wreathed,
Proclaimed my name aloud to all.

My Education’s cursed response –
A prayer to Reality,
Its Father by divinity:

To keep me far from native skills
Whose love forever beckons me.
My dear, dear Poetry.

And so marooned from page to page
In fated twists, or false allures,
I write and yet I do not write.

See how the nymph of Comfort Zone
Confines me on her daily page.
My verse is worsening with age.