When I look into the mirrored reflection
of my mind..
and ask it a question..
sometimes I get distracted misdirected
often blind-sided..
Like looking into another world
for a limited amount of time..
And seeing the answers revealed to me..
if only I'm to see,
well then, let it be me..
I'm a very patient man indeed..
so, on with the story--
Like any man or woman will tell you..
It's the simple things in life we need--
A bottle of vino--
that's more crimson than red..
A small loaf of course black bread..
and a raw turnip green..
A circle of white roses..
a tambourine..
raised over your head..
a brass bed and bells over the door..
Mother lying on the kitchen floor..
trying to talk to the spirits of the Dead--
All this you'd might ask of me,
"Rick..what are we living for..?"
It's plain to see, even with eyes wide shut..
That some want pleasure..
and others seek out pain--
And to others, it's all one in the same..
The power they have over you..
is slowly seeking to destroy you
and drive you insane..
"Exploit" is the name of the game--
For money, power, riches and for fame..
Sexual conquest..another sweet orifice..
Such a bitter shame..
"What's your pleasure then, Madam?"
Just spin the wheel, it's a guaranteed thrill..
I promise..you'll not leave empty handed..
Take a chance on me..for I'll show you the world..
That up is down right is wrong..
and freedom is a fantastic fetish..
Dressed-up in a pretty package called slavery..
Just pull the string..and dance for your master..
Whether you be made of wood, clay or alabaster..
My love for you is like no other..
I made you real and bought you with the price
I paid for my loneliness ..
And so, my tears turn into laughter..
If there is a heaven--we'll pretend there's no Hell..
If Life ever-after is real it's what we're all
running after..better than naught to toss a coin
down the wishing well..
Dreams made of paper burn so easily
and rise to the sky and turns to vapor..
The vapor turns to clouds and soon gets heavy..
The sky gets dark and rain falls down upon our uncovered heads..
Your smile fades and tears mix so well with the rain..
I taste salt on your lips salt on your finger tips and I see
lipstick on your teeth..
And so, before we even get started..it so humbly has to end..
I hate to leave this party alone..
At least I'm leaving with a friend..
~~the end
by Rick Weber
March 15, 2014
2015 hours
copy rights reserved 2014
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