Welcome to My Poetry Site
Only For Show
I'm a Type A Poet,
literarily incorrect
And in the company of fools,
my pen goes for their neck
They sing to the choir,
while we cry and spill blood
Their trash in the fire,
their lies in the mud
The things that we struggle with,
just folly to them
As their dilettante pleadings,
ramble on and pretend
Their self psycho-analysis,
and the time that they steal
Turn to dead broken promises,
masking what they can't feel
The thing they most run from,
we welcome inside
As they tunnel and burrow,
trying harder to hide
And their one greatest fantasy,
… for us never to know
That their self-proclaimed mastery,
was at best just a show
(Villanova Pennsylvania: July, 2016)
Inspired by the excuses and rabble we get from our
political leaders today ... I think we all feel the frustration
from being lied to.
literarily incorrect
And in the company of fools,
my pen goes for their neck
They sing to the choir,
while we cry and spill blood
Their trash in the fire,
their lies in the mud
The things that we struggle with,
just folly to them
As their dilettante pleadings,
ramble on and pretend
Their self psycho-analysis,
and the time that they steal
Turn to dead broken promises,
masking what they can't feel
The thing they most run from,
we welcome inside
As they tunnel and burrow,
trying harder to hide
And their one greatest fantasy,
… for us never to know
That their self-proclaimed mastery,
was at best just a show
(Villanova Pennsylvania: July, 2016)
Inspired by the excuses and rabble we get from our
political leaders today ... I think we all feel the frustration
from being lied to.
Comment On This Poem --- Vote for this poem
Only For Show
Only For Show
