Tuesday, 10 November 2015

Gold For What

Benjamin is a bastard
He is rather bitter and reasonably so
In the orphanage he is victim to the ignorance of his companions
He has no friends 
Suicide is often a fantasy 
He ponders about the exciting solution                   
But it’s never quite exciting
Enough
He is awkward and lanky
It’s not clich├ęd 

It’s classic├ęd 
He leaves the orphanage 
He’s rich 
Benjamin swears, his children will never suffer 
Protected and spoilt 
Two brats: a boy and a girl 
He will teach them soon, the real evils 
It’s better to give them the truth
Even if it’s only 

According to him, success is final 
Benjamin’s certain the curses are finished
But now an illness 
Claims to be 
The greatest enemy 
Yet
He passes the cemetery 
On a daily basis
Sweat shivering down the spine 
Genuine smiles for the bittersweet juxtaposition
Between life and death
He wants not to be 

The head of the family
How’s a man 
Befriending death, supposed to sport 
A peaceful front 
He ought to undermine the shock
So that self- pity would not spoil 
The domestic performance
This he couldn't allow
Reluctant to enter the house 
The car crawls into the open garage
The blinding headlights murdering 

The sleep of the German shepherd
His children laugh inside
He isn’t ready he exits the vehicle
He breathes heavily
Just pretend 
He pats the dog
The door of the garage closes 
From behind the chains unroll 
Producing a haunting, sorrowful sound
Soon he will be a mere ghost