a new venue,
new menu,
and they know exactly what to order
for a starving flesh
searching for renaissance
and I'm not talking bout in the afterlife;
as the pages rapidly flip,
over-standing children are the gift,
but discombobulated by the blatant
set up for failure
acting naive
easily deceived
unable to view the play or so you say;
repeating questions
like I'm supposed to get hit hard
and fumble as another one bites the dust
stuck in love with past lust
lying bout present minute stuff;
scheming bout the ridiculous
and immediately on the defense
when tongue begins to speak
in calm tones attempting to iron out the kinks
but some folks think their sh%t doesn't stink,
but won't defecate while others get refreshed,
every morning blessed
giving thanks that the blinders
have been obliterated