The Quarrel!

Bring out those unsolicited claims
Witness in your heart pretentious gains
Blowing worthiness of splendour and gold
Tell me this isn’t true or revoltingly untold!


Say ye, thee wise men
Born into the stressful messy den
Unfold thy lids, covered with years of dust
Belong to this song, make no precipitating fuss!


Rush thee now, whistle on fours
Turn that wind dial, hush then some more
Terror draw you out of your circle
Enter my square, begin now that ultimate quarrel!

©Chriselda Barretto


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