Name That Tune, Greg

Ahh! That hollow roar,

passive-aggressive bellows

of an impotent tyrant,

~

Grasping desperately

for any shred of respect,

oh, so richly undeserved.

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Works in Progress

Oh, how time has flown,

These five years, since your passing.

And yet, much remains

As it was before you left;

Consistently progressing.

~~

Not that you would know;

So invested, as you were,

In the status quo.

~~

Wait! That last harsh barb,

So bitter and unworthy,

Harkens back to grimmer times;

Long buried seething fury.

~~

So, the status quo

Remains beneath the surface

Like long neglected hunger.

~

I suppose healing

Sojourns can consume lifetimes;

And perhaps, even longer.