Secure Ward (Poetry)

Love’s a cool, smug, smiling man —
a trick in a white coat;
a dealer with a quick-fix plan
to keep sad souls afloat.

Time drifts along a fog-filled maze,
his watchful sailor’s eyes
guide me through the rocks of days,
regardless — I despise

such calm and dream of angry seas —
storms make me feel alive —
I’d rather drown by swift degrees
than hang on and survive.

No thrills allowed — the law ignores
the need for fear or fun —
the surface smooth but boredom soars —
I wish I had a gun.