Trying to be civil, artifice of care.
But it tugged at my heart
And played on those chords
That fling my shutters unbarred.
But I who have stumbled on simplest of stuff
Recall my letters in trash.
So why should I risk
My image for a fall
And burn those robes that glitter.
So I measure my pros
And weigh in my cons
And bottle my words into safest of packs -
Nuggets of proper and prim.
All that are left are sealed into self
Where they would flower and grow
And build from the ashes of questions unasked
Shrines beyond time and its roar.