That I should fall foul of your suspicion,
God forbid.
That suspicion should be rendered to your fertile imagination,
Then surely farewell I will the bid.
Doubt and mistrust, whom or what planted this seed?
So fast it's sprout and taken root,
On what did it feed?
Surely you don't think me a slave of greed?
You should know that I don't attest to that creed?
I don't know what to do to
Prove that to your satisfaction,
And quell your suspicion.
YOU ARE READING
NAVEL GAZING
PoetryNarrator is stuck in a world of regret and sorrow, get a glimpse of what swirl around in his head and his world view
