street art from google

my confession ...

my ceaseless deceit, my puffed-up conceit, reeking of what i am, of what i do, of my pathetic charade, my sacharine parade - coiled in an infinite loop:

a conscienceless repeatedly repeating repeat ...

... juggling halves,
my polar mind skids, with no traction on this seesawing slide,

as it scurries off to hide,

behind effortless lies,
spewing forth with a phantom innocence in my eyes,

throttling the urge to feel honest emotions,
soiling all meaningful ties,

strangling the surge of a feeling so fleeting, so devoid of all meaning,

while by the by,
my desecrated soul rips and shreds,

fleeing like rotten cowardice, up and away into the grieving skies,

with nothing but putrid detritus left behind,

stinking up the paths i always seem to find,

and always, always,

always concocting spurious excuses, blaming it all on the chemicals misfiring between the crevasses of my unkind mind,

while getting away with it all for the briefest time,

shivering with stunned fear,

knowing, always knowing,
i shall be exposed,

no matter how craftily i regurgitate each and every scribbled rhyme,

as i desert the purest ones who truly care,
the truest ones who have never hesitated to share,

as i tread with crocodile smiles, upon the hearts and souls they have with love laid bare,

while by the by,
i feel nothing as i abandon them with scarcely a goodbye ...

... and so it always goes, as it has always gone, and as it will always go,

my heart frigid, my soul inured,

hardly sparing a passing glance,

as i leave in my toxic wake, the shattered trust,

an epic of reeking untruths, spun in my web of feigned love, of all goodness pummelled into dust,

blow by excruciating blow,

yes, it is i,

who leaves nothing but a snaking pyroclastic flow ...

... and blah-dee-blah,

and so it always goes, as it has always gone,

and as it will always go ...

art by banksy