Just Another Warning Label
It’s funny how smart I think I am.
How easily I fall into believing that I am capable of cajoling the world
into giving me what I want.
The sharpness of tongue,
the rapier of the sword,
I’d merely discard each frustration upon the cutting floor:
“If you will not comply, you cannot belong.”
(There’s nothing more absurd than directing a one man play like you
are the lead player in a cast of thousands.)
I’d tell you to go,
(Sadly even now.)
“I am who I am, nothing can change.”
Then loudly comes the triumph of “no change”
Inheriting the wind torn landscape
on the other side of emptiness.
Time heals no wounds for the arrogant,
and all words become lies for whomever stands next in line.