No More Satisfied

Perhaps it may be chilly i’ the morn
At four a.m., when I the rooster wake
But here, beyond rude judging human gaze
I may my full creative stature take

Perhaps both day and night sibilant sound
Of city traffic there forever be
But both my neighbors, when I read aloud
Silence their dogs, considerate of me

Perhaps the breeze blows strongly in the eve
In warm wrapped robes it doth me no great harm
For it is colder in the home than here
I cuddle with the Muse this heart to warm

Perhaps I speak but one small word or two
To any human in a passing day
But by this price leave narcissism room
To satisfied be in its field of sway

Nor drawn am into small partisanship
In all the pettiness of power play
By which inhabitants within see fit
To ornament unsatisfying day

They may be warm, they may be better fed
They may find themselves in more company
Whilst by each other by the nose be led
They have a stereo and a TV

And seating which allows them to recline
While I must balance precariously,
But theirs is no more luxury than mine
And no more satisfied with it they be

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