Apr 2016
We strike up conversations,
A spark of dying flame.
Kindle built from imitations,
Glee is folly and a game.
Bootless is our falsity,
No one knows our name.
****** be outward chastity!
****** be this wretched game!
My only joy is being true,
My only sorrow lame.
Lame I am, and lame it is,
I'm crippled by a game.
A spark of dying flame.
Kindle built from imitations,
Glee is folly and a game.
Bootless is our falsity,
No one knows our name.
****** be outward chastity!
****** be this wretched game!
My only joy is being true,
My only sorrow lame.
Lame I am, and lame it is,
I'm crippled by a game.
We act like someone who we are not and we change ourselves for others. This is a tyranny of society. We think we need friends, but a good friend will never know who you are. Such is the outward society, to talk but never speak. To rattle about vanities but never say a single word worth hearing. I despise it, and though I know it can't be stopped, still, I clench my fists.
