Lay the patent leather path
before the feet so frail
Lace up time's corset fast
and tighten to barely exhale
For if we walk let us pretend
our style is gracious and good
and if we breathe ever again
keep it quiet as one should
There is no pain upon the veil
No shame in the way we dress
There's no harm as they assail
though they try their best
A dishonest days wages
for a day overworked
Ink still wet on these paychecks
But none left from what we earned
Still we smile in our pain
as their whip hands hammer down
Ride the carousel quite insane
and drink their health
with their own stash now!
(July 26th, 2017)
YOU ARE READING
Post Modern Mystic
PoetryPoetry fills a need of the human heart to express through the construction of artistic verse, the things that hide in its depths. This book of poetry is my attempt to reach those places and beyond. See if I do. Let me know if I reach you. This will...
