poetry corner 040 – Come, pass.

— – – —
I am what you might call a compass.
For as long as I am without interference,
I am without bias.

There are no squares.
No ones and ohs.
I simply declare,
And away you go.

North by-North-West.
Which constellation compliments best.
Everything else…
Just as disclosed.

Permit me some light,
Fret not if I am tarnished.
It will not strike me impolite
If I’m not recently varnished.

I do not mean to be without you,
Or not wish you were home.
I am still a compass.
Even alone, perhaps especially alone.

I am more like a compass
Than a throne.

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