The Makers

seventy times seven,
it is said.
seventy times seven,
clearly read.
seventy times seven,
forgive your fellow man.
seventy times seven,
but we sever his right hand.
seventy times seven,
everything is conditional.
never really forgiving, being overly emotional—
or dramatic, as we term it today.

queens, queens, of their own illusion.
the hat’s right, but the shoe’s missing.
sweet pet, your jester’s teasing,
the joke is actually on you.

oh but close your eyes,
pretend it’s actually true.
baby, remember, you’re only fooling you.

how long will this go on, you might ask.
don’t waste your precious sounds,
its forever, a thought to surely harass,
your inner want to be more.

deny it, because we all know,
the favorite part of your life,
is your ever constant show.

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