“Inward Agony”
Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem
“ It had a dying fall” ~ Shakespeare, Twelfth Night, Act II, Scene 3
“Call no man happy until he is dead.” ~ Solon
Men’s lives are like played melodies. If heard
In scraps, they fail to soar. If out of tune
Against their harmonies, unsweetened curd
Is how they taste—at best, or like a prune
Left out too long and shrivelled, black and dry.
A slice of them sung randomly, perhaps
From in the middle, might make life decry
The lack of beauty and imply no claps
Should come. The tunes will not quite matter in
The ears around them. If the melodies
Had secrets through them, hidden love as twin
To righteousness, they might weigh down a breeze.
The start is not enough. Mere ending fails
To answer truth like never written tales.
~ Phillip Whidden