Mine is a discreet delusion,
Never showing its face
In daytime public space
With buoyant effusion,
But sifting wanton intention
Through sieve of wary care,
And sending hints of wild invention
Wafting through the prudent air.
Each private death is cloaked
In civil banter, satin smile
Each enchanting hope is choked
By Duty's serpentine wile.
But a few unruly exhalations
Manage to escape the scene
I watch their willful emanation
Into a sky of errant dreams.
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