Poems

The plank was, thick, solid, laid flat on the ground

With no cares, with no worries until you came around

You baited him well with your stories, untrue

New ideas, questions, he now yearned for a better view

You slyly explained that there was indeed way to attain

But of course there was always no gain without pain

But you had him on the hook, and off went on a gullible trip

You led him to the machine, reaching out, with its terrible grip

You watched on so coldly, without feeling, without emotion

The machine did spit him out, in that terrible contortion

Pulverised, pressed, stretched, until his form completely changed

Wheeled him back to his place, where it all started, completely rearranged

Dropped him, back to earth, piled up in such a great tangle

The result of being completely fucked , in your great mangle

You simply said wait, it all will become clearer, and left without a backward glance

He was left alone, in great suffering, but had time to think, of that meeting by chance

Gradually, he unwound, from his distorted form, from his structure of pain

Took new shape, rising up from his old familiar ground, a new world he did gain

Were you correct to take from his simple life, to visit upon him life’s terrible tricks

But all is well in your life, for your agendas your businesses and friends in politics

No route back to his simple existence, to THAT place THAT peace there is no return

Now he sees so so well, the conspiracies, the fear, in which he does nighty burn

Oh why oh why did you come, why do you see so little yourself, of what you pursue

All in the name of the bottom line, your sense of yourself, to which you are so untrue

Just let it all go, let the planks be planks, they need no higher view

It’s your skies above that need to stay blue

To yourself, you need to be true