Friendless Center - edit3

[dukealien]

edit2;


Friendless Center


I yearn for characters to orbit me
as sycophants revolve around their kings
portraying duty jeweled with repartee
as Jove has Ganymede, Saturn his rings.

I weep for things which cannot love me back–
old figurines I own, toys thought to life–
and sadly smile at knowing grins I lack
on painted faces, mindful as a knife.

Inconstant, things I own:  they shall not be
grave-goods to burn or bury in a tomb;
mute matter, they cannot accompany
my dissolution but outlive my doom.

You toys, you things I value more than friends–
help me forget what smiles, and who pretends.

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Hope this is not now over-egged or smelling of the lamp.  Still working those rhymes...