A Matter of Distrust
Possessing pure skepticism
allows me
to carry an air of longevity
Having to breathe in
false utterances,
the words of mendacious men
I could never trust
If you be at the opposite end
on the thought spectrum
of visible dust
Then persuade yourself
if you must
That everything is peachy keen;
because an oval echo,
from a yellow enamel orifice,
placebo grin said so
Keep pulse listening
to the dunce reverberations
that smarmy gloat
Si, I do verily distrust that locust sound
every grimy vocal whit
As the green devouring wheeze abound,
grim reaper facts exist
So, Covid yourself
if you must
That none of the dying coughing is truly real,
because an ivory pair of coffin eyes
opaque hide behind a green curtain shade ill
There’s 19 different wavy versions:
Flagellated ear-rant vials of vapor duplicity
Inhale the infectious bah humbug,
give a callous shrug with an air of morbidity
Convince yourself
to believe a lie
of paper sawdust,
if you must
As for me,
the leper words of lecherous men,
I will always
contagiously distrust
Copyright © Freddie Robinson Jr. | Year Posted 2020
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