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The Straight Face
Our Saviors,
Are the ones who kill in secret.
Little Children,
Are the ones we call parents,
the meaning
of meaningless life escapes us,
But that is our journey.
The Pope says “Dear God”
He knows there are still believers.
The burden of positions,
Makes one shapeless,
And the little puddles,
We call friends evaporate
not out of thin air,
Just out of trust.
and we are someone we are not in the end,
Just so they will accept us.
Acceptance,
Is something like buying into illusions.
Only the delusional seek reality,
And only reality is shameless enough,
To hold a straight face.
