At An Impasse
The troll under the bridge mocks me and jeers
It comments on my deficiencies, pokes fun at my fears
It sits in its dark cave closed in with many locks
Creeping to confront me when my hooves form knocks
It stares and nags and bars me from my way
Its breath stinks of alcohol as across my path it lays
The troll will snort and spit and bite, strike me in a fashion
I cower and retreat each day lonely for lack of passion
Each morning I return to the bridge hoping for safe passage
Each day it hobbles out to me, holding to the adage
My brothers cannot aid me, they've crossed without hassle
They've left me here to wane, limp like a cap's tassel
I resent that troll safe on its perch, hate it for its lagging
Day by day I seek the other side, life free from the battling
This troll must tire from its task, must concede me victory
Snout, snip, snap, greener, free life to end this old story.
Written 7/8/10
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