excuse me your—
your—
excuse me ma’am, but
honorable ain’t something i know for sure about you yet
so please allow me to call you what you are—
Your Highness,
both knees bruising I approach
like grandma say do only for God
my eyes tell epic sagas
telepathically
cause words would take too long
too long to explain
too long lived
too long in this position
begging
for simple restitution
when fair should just be fair
but in this place
i am mute
while
heads talk disconnected from soul
unaware or unconcerned
that
bloated breath
spawns
maelstroms
at every turn
none of this should have been
but here we all are
and Your Majesty
i just hope your ESP
is ON and turned up high
cause what i seen and have to say
is bubbling up inside
if words have power
and i speak the poison
somebody might curl up and die
no offense intended
but this was not my choice
to kneel on spirit-stained carpet
boxed in by false golden lasso walls
ceiling drips echoes of bible verses
despair and desperation
saturate
this space
where i am
drowning with no voice
waiting
for YOU
to decide whether i deserve
a lifeline
so Your Holiness,
in supplication
i humbly request
that you honor your title
and
be just
thank you.
and, um, Amen.
No comments:
Post a Comment