O’ those sweet Buts

“The great challenge of adulthood is holding on to your idealism after you lose your innocence.” 
― Bruce Springsteen

I met some hes and shes that eagerly pleased

 all of those around them

For luscious charm graced each yarn

to spin for those who listened

Victorian woes coloured a gilded rose

each shared with the other

They clinked their cups of English tea

flavoured with hints and hints of whiskey

and cheered,

“we laugh and sing to our small inflictions,

however colourful they might be.

For each woe we share

we no longer bare

so come join us if you please.”

so I sat

ready to release a tale or three with a sip of flavoured tea

I sat and waited in turn I did

When cathartic release turned to this tiny little beast

in a subtle size of a “but”

A song of their Jeckle snickered to a Hyde

A Hyde of another not they 

Oh they spit and they spat at others away

 preceding praise

 followed with a phrase

Transitioned

with

“but…,”

So I’d like to tell you all that hear

That these gracious hes and shes are so very dear

But…