Presume The Posts

On he stumbles,

Blinded like I was,

Bouncing off walls

Transparent as gauze.

One despairing dive:

A brotherly screen -

But somebody steps

To screen him from me.

His hair would curl

At her breath so warm,

But when she left

His curls were shorn.

Having died its death,

That love so fleet,

False solace was found -

Her silver-tongue still sweet.

Friends preserve masks

              with ossified odes,

But will not stand

              loitering in their own abodes.

Friends seek refuge

              without restraint,

But will not hear ill

              of ecstasy’s feint.

I hark backwards,

A wont of my own:

Anecdotes of ache

Pile within my phone.

Firmly on my shoulder

Rests a hazardous hand -

Deaf to the words

Of our generation’s bands.

Their words are his,

Uttered in sincerity;

Harsher all the time

In truth and severity.

And she is naïve

To be so callous,

Dragging their story

Screaming through malice.

Friends preserve masks

              with ossified odes,

But will not stand

              loitering in their own abodes.

Friends seek refuge

              without restraint,

But will not hear ill

              of ecstasy’s feint.

And then we collide

          - his world and mine.

Indiscernible divide

            - though inimical inclines.

Yet still he persists

              - silence of the crammed.

His brother he resists

              - his father already damned.

But his friends exist

              - so his posts are manned.