Bad Use


The mist was deceptive,

Just as the illusion of her that I

Had gotten used to loving,

Fortunately or otherwise.


All that I had imagined to be mine

Was now a mockery of me,

Nothing else, nothing more;

Hence, nothing of good use…

I wonder if things have ‘bad uses’ too!?


And if such a term does care to exist,

It’s been a lifetime of bad uses, I persist

Didn’t you see what became

 of the previous bucket list!


Running out of the shower naked,

No eureka moment, but as if electrocuted:

Shame is shamed, not purified,

In the face of a neurosis, denied.


And thus I find no viable excuse

To a lifetime of all that bad use! 


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