Not What This is About

Being who we are

Touching on what we should do

Then finding both edges of the sword

Are sharp as hell.

Leaning in to devise a crime

So sinister they won’t even talk about it

But in due course they find the right place.

She, a double spy

Which would garner her some punishment

If only they knew which side she was actually on.


A wine glass lays on its side

With the smallest amount of wine left in it

He picks it up

Announces his arrival


And apparent insubordination

Lack of any tact

Nor any concern for the well being

Of any nation.

Surely they will vote him into politics.


A story concocted

Out the minds of babes

The mouths of monsters

Relentless and unnerving

We speak of it to no one.

Yet it occurs with regularity

For those longing for the spotlight

That some of us

Care nothing about.


I’d tell you this had a happy ending

But whatever you thought

That isn’t what this is about.



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