The age of plastic
Melted into a mould
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Because everyone's a star
Did you see her new post???
It received more Likes than his
Shall we post something outrageous?
Grab everyone's attention
We could express our thoughts on things we know nothing about
Let's meet online
Create a total fake ID
I could choose my hobbies according to your preferences
I could tell you exactly what you'd like to hear
But remember I may not be found in this game
The real me will not be present
I could choose my height and weight
But when we meet in the flesh
I will not resemble the image
People envy me for the life I (don't) have
But yet I try to combat my battles
I try to pay my bills
And tomorrow we'll all suffer the consequences
of lives built on cheap thrills
Oh, and don't forget to BUY NOW
While love's on special
For one week only

The plasticiser of human flesh–
Influence,
Poured on without filter or mesh.
Swabbed, glazed
Over a body.
The victim left in a daze
While we
Watch (unknowingly? Or not?)
As they rot away,
Day by day.
They’re less brittle,
Yet it seems this plasticiser has little
Positive effect.
For the promoting of flexibility
Just seems to mean two-facedness
And a lack of respect
To them and me.
Plasticiser just turning our world to mush–
To get it done,
I’m truly in no rush.

Work in a call centre all night long five nights a week
On shift number five told to go drinking with the bosses
Drink till drunk then drink till you puke this is an order
I did this twice with them when I worked in a small BPO
Twice was enough drink till I crawl had my fill no more
Takes the stress away but I’m not doing it again
I was too tired after shift asked time and again
Let’s drink till we puke and crawl in many call centres
Not my thing now with my team mates who aint my pals
Too many differences interest wise and age
I’m not in their little click how many times?
I drink alone after shift five know what I wanna do
Not spend time with them or their fake friends
All plastic posturing and lies none of it for me
Work in a call centre drink till you puke and crawl

Theory of a dread
Music in the naked thought
For more, than a kind thank you ahead
Where the cloth is worn, with a purposed climate to rot?

Music with a proud name...
Torrid whole kindred, and a dole of lead
In meager how, the gift of nothing shame?
Reasons and similar essence to rise, and fall with need...

Mercy for a minstrel of heirs?
Taken to lies and school's of thought...
Sweet avarice, do we know you one step more?
Like a bird of war, we see the tried and true, became not...

Them said, the tone of your voice is a sultry longing...
Strength and totals of sincerity, to show you a vaunted
Gold, and the many of sitting for a though, a song
Of guided misery, the stare of unison that joy meant...

A hat full of sunshine, is a waiting lover...?
Known for mutual live and lets give the moment...
With but a song to share, are we a sallow order to those?
With a realm to touch and mendacity in the eaves, is again a lament...?

The shyness of veracity, in your hand for ourselves?
That knew the day of your haunt of justice, wantonness
Courage in the affront of thunderous drama, to acquire a force
Of silence and reason in a marvel of distance, as if the name of our blessing...?

A halting dream with shall to swallow, and the instinct...
Of curiosity with a bridge to essential mere, the times are a changing covenant...?
With the shadow of youth, the honor of what was a method succinct...
Tales of sour chance in the good nature of fear, today is a lovers love...?

There are buckets made of plastic
There are buckets made of wood
The former are fantastic
The latter not so good.

There are buckets made of metal
And canvas buckets too
But metal for durability
I'd choose if I were you.

There's a bucket on a digger
And buckets made of leather
The former are the bigger
And the latter not so clever.

There are buckets made of tin
And with a little ***** in hand
Kids can build sand castles
When playing on the sand.

There are buckets made of rubber
Or with a wringer for a mop
And some in white enamel
With a blue ring round the top.

There are so many buckets
And some I may have missed
But if anyone should ask me
That's my bucket list.

A million people drinking
Their lemon-flavored tea
A billion bottles floating
Upon a poisoned sea

Within each bottle there's a note
To peeps who find the plastic shell
It's just a slip of paper
From the manufacturer from hell.

The water pipes in old Detroit
Are poisoning kids dead
Because the linings have worn off
And underneath was lead

Pollution will run red as blood
The sun as black as coal
While the fat cats who caused it
Relax on sandy shoals.

How can we prevent this?
Is Recycling the way?
Hasn't helped much that I see

I prefer to PRAY.


SoulSurvivor
November 2021

Brilliant cherry reds
Scattered like stars across the tile floor.
Their sheen is alluring -
A bright dollar store sparkle;
A candied shimmer to disguise triviality.

All it takes is a jagged nail
To scratch away the lie,
Thinly veiled by a coat of paint and acrylic.
"A person's true colors will always show in time,"
Or so the saying goes.

The deceit is lovely.
It carries an aromatic falsehood
With promises of

                          truth,

                                    gentleness,

                                                    and beauty,

All pretending to glimmer in your plastic ruby eyes.