Farcical Verse…

Spurious words frothing, contorted and forked,

litter the discarded alleyways through which I have walked,

my smile, the merest sliver of a veil cloaked and clogged,

my callous heart awaits it’s fate, the release of finally being flogged,

each putrid breath taken reeks of stale consciences, left shoddily out to rot,

every fractured word spoken should be put up against the wall to be humanely shot …

… So if he should come calling, raise your head up high, be brave and be strong,

and tell him that it is over, tell him that there is no one, and that there is nothing, and that there is nowhere at all, left to belong