Have another sneer, on your way out
I’ll take another beer & perfect my favorite pout
It’s the one that tries to tell the world
My insides have been turned out
& I am lost again
& groping for a poison pen . . . .
Faces blend in a street parade
Where cardboard people make believe
Their mouths are always moving, yet they don’t know how to
talk
& sightless wizards, lead the way, on dragging feet of
chalk
They mark a path to follow, for journeys to embark
As seeing-eye dogs, chasing cats, guide them from the dark
& I refuse to mourn, for what is evident
The waste of life these mindless marchers spent
Instead I dig a hole, with trembling, bloodied hands
Instead I upheave soil, from broken-promise land
All to please a woman, & her one demand
That I will keep on digging, until I understand
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