‘The Frail Security of Mediocrity’ by Buffy Worsham The Society May 14, 2016 Beauty, Poetry I thought that maybe you’re no longer free To think separately from Time’s favored paths Choosing its well-worn roads to unmarked streets, Gathering fruitless branches, your trip won’t last. I can see someday you’ll fall forward, Tripping over the silent ground face first Unto fresh scents of petrichor towards Unforgiving mysteries, your veins burst. Once again mediocrity loses Originally born from the same cut As saintly cowardice’s faint roses Its fragrance wafts where deadly secrets rut. When Security crushes pure arts of truth You’ll pay for the unlived future’s final noose. buffythewriter.wordpress.com Featured Image: “From Pentonville Road Looking West Evening, 1884” by John O’Connor (Museum of London) Related Post ‘I Journey On’ and Other Poetry by James A Tweed... a villanelle The sun descends into the silent sea. As shadows lengthen in the fading light I journey on to seek what yet may be. As death from l... Tell the world:FacebookTwitterTumblrPinterestRedditLinkedInEmail Leave a Reply Cancel Reply Your email address will not be published.CommentName* Email* Website Notify me of follow-up comments by email. Notify me of new posts by email. This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.