2017 Day 15 – Middle For Diddle

Middle for diddle.
How’re you diddling?
Fair to middling.
Riddle me this:
How can I enter
The middle, the centre,
The heart of the matter?
You lie and you flatter,
You’re all on the fiddle,
Twiddling your thumbs
While I’m out on the edge.
If I follow the hedge
Of the maze to the middle
Will I ever get out?
What’s it all about?
The centre can’t hold
As I’ve told you before.
in the middle of war
There is no solution,
No resolution –
All these middle-aged men
With their middle-class aims
And their games and their ploys
And their jobs for the boys
And their nuclear toys.
I have found
There is no middle ground.


Notes: The prompt was to write a poem ‘that reflects on the nature of being in the middle of something.’


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