The Rogue

Photo by Kim Dowson

The stunted growth of the sly one.

With closeted tales and fragile truths.

An exiled self, born of imitation.

Nefarious concoctions to feed off the faithful.

With a gluttonous appetite of egoistic rule.

A deviant, serving of no one.

The unworthy sleep here at the door.

While the heavy weep and crawl the floor.

Betrayed of promise and aid once more.

Under foot their bones snap and splinter.

No truer a rogue could be devoid of distinction.

A truculent infantile of the most horrendous.

Impeded by apathy and hostile.