Trust

I will not question your remiss.
You cannot help your folly in
A frenzied, fashioned, frivolous
Profusion of profession.

Within a welt of weariness

Without a weathered wariness

You seethe a certain innocence

That escalates confusion.

How could I doubt?

Why should I shout?

What kind of lout would question?

To taunt or mock

Would cause a shock

But garner no confession.

I will not cry
Or alibi

Or grumble in disgust.

Sometimes the fat

Is rendered to

A simple act of trust.

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