perhaps it’s because i’ve had a drink
but I’ve sat deep in my chair and began to think
why bother
with these infants
these cardboard cutouts of plastic smiles
I ache
I ache from exertion
From unabashed rage
from the tolling bell and rattled cage
and these people don’t care
they blink
no amount of world shaking can sweat off the stink
of apathy and ignorance
it’s indentured servitude
to enslave the masses in thought
when they’d rather have food
let them eat their apocryphal cake
and let me scrub my skin
from the mistakes that I make
perhaps this is judgment
and im judging myself
from the pit of my poverty
looking up at the wealth
perhaps im the fool and ive got it all wrong
is that why my days seem short
and my nights are so long
Im a sinning christian
where is my love
for that I sue for grace
from heaven above
JVS