I had to be good to you.
There wasn’t any other choice
that I could see. To treat you any
worse than best just wasn’t me.
My still, small voice inside spoke words
of clear command. My moral compass
broke its glass, its needle grew
into a lance in steady hand:
it’s always doing things like that.
It points to you. That is the fact.
There is no doubt, my duty here.
To serve: and what I must shines clear!
I offer all, and wait upon your word
in case there is no need. I sometimes
do misjudge the call. As all is offer,
all decline is free. However, hopefully?
There might be something I could do!
That you would want. Things do not need
to answer need to be well-done and true.
A Pocketful of Poesy was and is again a Poem-a-Day(-on-Average) Blog! For 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, and now for 2017 and going forward, you may expect to see 365 poems every year, 366 for leap years.
but aren't they all random?
Monday, February 15, 2021
compel, compel
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