The Sting of A Yellow Jacket
by Michael Doyle

Naughty narrative braids together
A story of coming of age but better
Two tracks made into one story
Neither of them qualifying for glory

High school drama can be brutality
Even without its incessant fatality
As childhood comes to its ends
It becomes harder to tell who is a friend

In a lethal stew of hormones and gore
There is the question that implores
Why is it an endless absurdity to process
However ennobled are the intentions we profess

The time in the woods, it still lingers
As our dreams slipped through our fingers
The growing pains of childhood left its scars
As we laid back counting wished on stars

Campfire sparks itself into dying embers
As if it was funny that no one remembers
All the things we swore to one another
Are now just dreams we've long since smothered

An instability stings itself into the anarchy
As watched threads dissemble from the hierarchy
A cannibalistic cult transforms from the start
As friends tear each other savagely far apart

Losing touch with all that was once thought true
It's compelling to watch the negotiation in view
Anxieties grind into the twists of the ironic
Each believer clinging to what was once iconic

There is a simple barbarity to the complexity
That passes itself off as if it were simplicity
The indolence inside is the toxicity brewing
In its precise forms of emotional undoing

The time in the woods, it still lingers
As our dreams slipped through our fingers
The growing pains of childhood left its scars
As we laid back counting wished on stars

Campfire sparks itself into dying embers
As if it was funny that no one remembers
All the things we swore to one another
Are now just dreams we've long since smothered

(c) January 27, 2022   Michael Doyle
All Rights Reserved