Shades of Pale Green

I like to wallow
in the morose…
undoubtedly,
the morose
has its own charms

I feel comfortable
there, in the trenches
away from the
maddening cheers,
and shallow celebrations
of success

Of course, i know
I’m just being facile,
the depth is just
an abyss, without end
without meaning

The comfort zones
have clipped my wings,
disinfected me with
sterile purity,
crowned me the king
of the no man’s land

If I take a refuge
in obscurity,
it’s not pride,
just cowardice…
it’s a protection,
against judgment

Yes I like to wallow
in the morose,
and let it grow
on me, like moss.
the morose, undoubtedly
has its charm