It’s Just Talk

Stand in judgement, look away

from the piss-stained man and his broken bottle

to the blue tarp where in silent grief

the broken man dares only dream in vacant screams.

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Listen to the hate, on vacant aires of endless display

how dare the other and how we hobble

those who do not share in our disbelief

and where nothing, not even the most innocent scheme, is ever what it seems.

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It is an endless torment, and always in dismay

we turn from the pitiless stares of our gathering jackals 

counting out rich man poor man beggar man thief

all humble now and cast in bronze on worn down knees.

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Once their was truth, before words of decay

found out a hollowed land oh so craving her newer shackles

where even in dreams there was no relief

and so cast to the shadowlands once again, he waits with Diogenes.

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© 2023 adrian leverkühn | abw | just a few ideas scattered here and there…