I wrote this one during a rather angsty period in Lloyd last year.

WEAK LINK

Weak link
Little weakling
With a fear beyond the bounds
Of human suffering.
"Like a puppy,"
he told me
"That only thinks it's tough."

But this spitfire
Strums her tightwire
As it hoists the whirling rubble
Of an long since due disaster
Round a pulley made of jelly
Resting on her hollow belly.

Truth stranger than fiction
This stranger engaging her friction.

Crushed by every curve-ball
No longer.
But how softly, slowly,
Sweetness turns to bitterness.

Best to break the bundle
Before the baggage breaks you.