Bearing Thoughts

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered quite insanely,
Over many a voice of obnoxious and noxious sounds,
While I quandered, nearly nodding, intruded a horror quietly prodding,
As of someone hitting on my drunken head, hitting on my drunken head.
‘Tis a friend,’ I muttered. ‘Hitting on my drunken head.’
Only this, or so I said.

Presently, my head grew clearer, hesitating to listen longer.
‘Of who is speaking, your forgiveness I would adore,
But the truth is I am drinking and my conscious coerced my thinking,
And so faintly you came speaking, speaking as to imbed,
That so sure was I that heard you speaking to imbed.’
Only this, or so I said.

When it came to persuasion, such a gift to them was not imbued.
While I cast a glance upon two kings, who clearly didn’t comprehend
The dance of verbose speaking when it is truly, wholly weighed,
Upon whether the speaker stayed or strayed from the poignant point ahead,
‘Though I fear it does appear they fail at giving quality instead.’
More or less, or so I said.

‘Friends and foes!’ cried I. ‘Oh harbinger sitting on the mind,
Or bearers, you would never love the fickle men that lead!’
Yet you listened out of kindness, so as to somehow imbue,
Thoughts that escape us, always things your mind has bred.
Always they escape, escape confines that stay in stead.
Only this, or so I said.

So are those dancing thoughts listening because you came from many?
Your tales of futures, the many years ahead
I liked that you like that we need to know but one word,
‘I’ll tell the people that I’ve heard, or so that it changed my head
I’ll tell the change wrought within my simple minded head.’
Only this, or so I said.

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