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On life and its vagaries

Laden bower

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My dear

I am just old fashioned

And sincere

But I am not a piece of wood

You took me for something insensitive

Something obtuse

Well is sincerity out of fashion now?

Is deceit the in thing?

Should I flash a grin and grind my gums unseen?

Should I say “yes the sky is blue-

For your eyne are so”

That would be a lie

‘Cause they are nowhere near blue.

If they are anything

They are small and

They are black

Like your little mind

That can’t live in reality

That has to run and hide at the least hiccup


There are all kinds of thorny bushes out in the wilderness

It is just as well

Otherwise how would you survive?

You skip behind them every time-

You are confronted with something you do

Isn’t it strange that

You haven’t heard of a thing called sense?

Oh I know

You only like to live the lie

If someone comes up and says

“Laden bowers, garden’s bone”

Would the frames feel a thing?

God, the mire to which people sink-

When flattery is on.

Well can’t blame you alone

Everyone’s like that

It might even please me.


There is something nice in being deceived

It helps us pass the time.

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Written by Sam

January 19, 2010 at 5:28 pm

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