Manuscripts
In tattered reams
Storied tales
Shattered dreams
Proverbs strewn across the floor
They just don’t give a damn anymore
A blatant violation
Of social expectation
It is what it is my friend
Beneath the fabrication
False legislation
My motives I suppose
To force a rise from you
Painted plastic grin
Perhaps it’s peaceful in your skin
Forgive me if I doubt it
Impatience
Can’t you see?
You cannot fake sincerity
Gaping holes
Decaying minds
Mental illness
Such horrid finds
May my steps defy your logic
In subtle mystery
Someday perhaps you’ll find it
The way it’s meant to be
Fabricated morals
Lessons of deceit
Pointed innuendos
Forever incomplete
© Bill Grimes Jr. 2011
