Wednesday, 2 December 2015

Fools For A Bargain

“Two Friends” by Pablo Picasso (1904)

They don’t mind what we say about them at least they’re being talked about
So we marginalize them on their on watch
When they stare into mirrors
Sliced into generosity; the thousand shards by overbearing urges
They lose to their fantasy 
Utopia is man-made 
They have no one else to blame, but themselves
For looking so alike
They are entertained by our confusion
Our incompetence to tell the difference, between the good and the bad
The ugly that lurks in the loneliest hours
Always waiting for a trail of smoke to signal its freedom

Banish from these walls
The devil that cries, behind the flower wallpaper
We can’t see when the end nears 
The light does nothing to change the darkness otherwise
It is hard to come by for those of us who choose to obey the demons
That talk in gullible ears
Secrets of no value
The words of which breed the assumption, for unhealthy relationships
We take are the instructions of the higher command
We like being abused
So much so
That we boast to other people
On a daily basis

We’re fools on our own making
Joined at hips
Elbows sharper than the shovel
It’s challenging to feel disgrace
The cure to cancer is still trapped somewhere inside the brains of poverty
The world needs to stop being
So stingy
Our bodies are so comfortable we can sit in them for days
On end, your lips are dry from constant fumbling
Leave yourself alone when there’s none for guilt
No one is here to account for
Your dystopia
The devil is the green blob of paint that the artist flicks onto his canvas