I am sorry if I offend in words
as in deeds. I cannot abide, in faith;
my eyes observe actors upon a stage,
sparrows chatter hidden like little birds;
ordinary people don't understand
reflecting on a mystery, the wraith
realizes a specter in a rage,
yellow in room without light, absurd
insight, the ghost is dead, death is at hand,
foreign to the living, unlike the sick...
I watch, I cannot help, I'm of no use,
obviously, I cannot bear the thick,
fortitude of the rude actors, a truce
forgives no one, forgets nothing. I heard
entertainers cannot see past their nose;
no rest for the wicked, or the weary,
desperate to fit in, for the choir,
indeed only listen as to oppose,
not just words but the deeds of the teacher;
work transforms people to reject dreary,
objects of dysfunction for a higher
regard. Status figures highly in lives
drunk with power, masters to the preacher,
sadly forgotten, but in name he thrives.
No comments:
Post a Comment