Who's Problem Is That Now?

Stop miming and just talk to me
Your kindness always made things worse
Say anything you want to, I just don´t understand
Nothing in here moving which isn’t already cursed
What dreams may come, made up of hurts

I can hear the flushing of the toilet, dead man walking down the hallway
There is nothing left to say, only peace and quiet he now covets
But fame and fortune call, no one to blame but the legends of the fall
Little boy lost found scribbling on the walls, twas long ago he placed his final bet

The courtroom is for liars, sleeping with false confidence
All my fathers try to sentence me to forty years of common sense
Unjust judges faces freeze, disguising democracy
Rearranging endless faces all along the bar
Clinging to evidential traces that have been stretched too far
Venus is standing on her knees, catching flies to entrap me
The prosecution players hold flowers pleading diplomacy
They pass around photographs of you flirting with the economy
Betraying Judas and the jury with trumped up excuses of futility
And journalists hide in the shadows in Gothic furniture disguise

The recess of the living dead whispers your innocence
While dictation consumers replenish the back benches
With children reborn from their latest ventures
Ignoring what has gathered from coincidence
But I don’t wanna play monopoly on the conscience of love
With rules that make no sense even if they are at work
Better keep on walking fast against the tide of the law
Dressed up as an undertaker to sell you the carpet and the floor
Following secrets of the past, at least they will last
And I’ll end up almost invisible but with so much more

The courthouse is condemned, there is nothing left to spend
Shakespeare whispers to ya, whoever you and he are
That the wind is always with ya, on the bridge to Terebithia
Every change ignored in no man’s land

Minds changing gears, out of control on the highway of passing fears
The fuel of love tightly rationed now
Say anything you want to, I just don´t understand
D’you really want to see everything and forget the rest?
Like discharged soldiers counting the mad
Something happening you can´t hold onto now
What made me think you´d ever settle for less
I left you in control but who´s problem is that now?

To Be Continued…

Who's Problem Is That Now?

Saul Goode (Michael B. Less)

Kingston Heights, New Zealand

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poem poetry

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