A Way Station Detour
I will never appear to be
anything that mattered to you
how taken in by everything
every misprinted word
any ill begotten deed
It is so sad to see the influence
of such plain ignorance
so blinded by your naiveties
He whispers cruelty into your ears
exaggerations multiplied
by the sum of spoken fears
plies his trade
ending up waylaid
the best you've had in years
Surrounding themselves with objects desired
not necessarily needed
like towel warmers
collecting dust in the corners
pompous and wannabe pretentious
empty wine bottles refilled
with brackish, colored water
bleached stones on window sills
boxes filled
with half consumed prescription pills
yet fully convinced of phantom aliments
secretly plaguing themselves
buying into it
paging through magazines
convinced to try it
seriously living beyond their means
Have you guessed who these people really are?
former relative steered wrong
illegal immigrant with western world notions
better off dredging the bottom of the ocean
No real family
nor identity
just shallow idealism
to impregnate an unsuspecting victim
half convinced this is love
no, this is rejected blood
that also flows through
miles of capillaries and veins
with a way station detour
into the surreal and strange
mathiasthom
written 10/29/09
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