Am I not looking – looking to achieve
Perfection the world wants – what it so desperately needs
A perfection it yearns for and what it deserves
What it cannot acquire yet constantly serves
Like a bullet through the heart … through time and space
Past the coils of life through gestures, nods and superfluous gates
Guarding affections, guarding the heart … steel strong gates – a rich man’s rampart
Plastic smiles, contemptuous nods, illustrious masks intricately designed
Whitewashed catacombs of the walking dead
Represented as fine art in a collector’s shed

Time unravels, peeling paint, broken fences, broken gates
Locks torn open, curtains in two, windows broken, you get a clue
Of perfection’s illusion, of perfection’s cruel hoax,
From it’s tonic we drink, so drunk that we choke
Choke on its lies, choke til we die … die from within til it reaches outside
Banished like lepers rejected, diseased; no longer relevant – society’s ill-ease
- May 27, 2012 -