12 Nov 2016 – The Call

What were you hoping to gain with your call?
To tighten the grip that you keep on my balls?
Joyously jerking me here on your string,
a terrified puppet, a plastic plaything.

Dawn came this morning but brought me no light.
Doom throwing papers, well-chronicled fights.
It’s all the world now, not just you and me.
Love costs too much and we have to be free.

Darkness around me, there’s darkness indeed:
fear for the future, the air full of screeds.
I’d hoped to give you a gold wedding band.
Your scepter takes up all the room in your hand.