Mid week poem – Disappointment

Disappointment oozes in my blood

Boils my brain with the hopeless feeling of oh no, not again

 

Promises are made, soft words of high hopes

The moon is ours if only we believe and trust

And deny all that we feel in our gut

 

Darkly, slyly, creeping like the mist up the turgid river from the turncoat sea

You moved in like a gathering storm

A grinning front, leading us into a grey impenetrable darkness

A surge of disappointing déjà vu and here we were once more nailed to our

Wheels of fortune, of blame and recrimination

Of failure and inadequacy

You thought you saw (what?) so you accused, you blamed

We sighed, exhaled, here we go: let’s repeat the refrain

Hunting the bottom, finding the flaw, squandering good will

 

Oh, how much worse it is to be fooled, led by the nose

Into the field of bloody, boggy betrayal

Of arrows at dawn

Of stalking assassins in the corridors and rooms of our castle

Of smiles that dissemble, then sling the mud based on ephemera and lies

Do you know the enemy, where she skulks, waiting for you?

Your very own Thane of Cawdor

 

Do you wonder that we despise

And despair once more, immured in the squalor of our disappointment

Brought by you to our intrepid door

To our stoic hearts

Tenaciously fighting against the entrenched tides of ignorance

And over-whelming arrogance

 

Who are you to disdain us

To condemn us

To accuse us of being second rate

Of not being able or worthy or mighty?

 

It is you who falter

You who are deceived by your elevation

Your foolish counsel, your belligerent, ignorant generals

Your inexperience

You, fresh prince-ling, with your schoolboy bullyboy tactics, your Stepford strategies

You know not the trees from Burnham Wood

It is you who fail us

You, who disappoint Us (Images courtesy Google Images)