The Staring Game
It's a long funny gaze
The way your blessings
Stare at you, too soon
You give and turn your eyes
And see the dusty floor
The squeaky noise, a noticing
Of all the things that hide
A sinful sort of safari
For the lurking beast called discontent
His roar a far off threat, it's all
You can think about, his stalking breath
But blessings never quit
The game, never dropped it's gaze
Only blessings are no predator
But simply the smallest and gentlest
Of the hunted, its scrubby pelt a perfect
Sort of muff to hide the distant growl
An easy catch in an impossible game.
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