End of Tenure

Of indecipherable confessions
Murdered conjectures of thought
Laments from uncompromised
Mouth agape, running rabid
Daring for detonated dynamites
Yet the morning light dawns
Street talking, nose poking
Bleeding arrogant insanity
Banging fists of rage
Whilst we drown our rounds of rum

And yet She talked,
A litany of unwarranted praises
Senseless innuendos of fright,
But wouldn’t talk of the present
Things that mattered
Buttered promises and lies
Sandwiched truths of conscious
Treading on landmines of deficit
As her tenure comes to an end
When I and her part ways down the Golomoti isle