‘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) NOTE: The Society considers this page, where your poetry resides, to be your residence as well, where you may invite family, friends, and others to visit. Feel free to treat this page as your home and remove anyone here who disrespects you. Simply send an email to email@example.com. Put “Remove Comment” in the subject line and list which comments you would like removed. The Society does not endorse any views expressed in individual poems or comments and reserves the right to remove any comments to maintain the decorum of this website and the integrity of the Society. Please see our Comments Policy here. Share this:Click to share on Twitter (Opens in new window)Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window)Click to print (Opens in new window)Click to share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window)Click to share on WhatsApp (Opens in new window)Click to email this to a friend (Opens in new window)Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Leave a Reply Cancel ReplyYour email address will not be published.CommentName* Email* Website Notify me of follow-up comments by email.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.