A tricky poem about playing a game based upon the gift given to me by God above. |
-Lie To Thy Master- by Keaton Foster What to hear Listen quite well Understand this hell Lie to thy master Tell him everything Make each part up Leave no detail out Place nothing aside Take his pseudo gift An ability to write Your penchant to express When so many must remain As silent as deceased birds Beings that serve no purpose Other than to rot away Feeding what comes next And what will always remain This is your prescribed ability Beat him, God with it Hold it just like a loose brick A missing piece of something built And no doubt destroyed Be assured, confidently mired That judging you is of no concern Simply picking a number Won’t get you there any faster This everything, a premonition See it all Clear with understanding We, you, me, every damn one of us Are just a speck of dust On the head of the tiniest of pin Mending the fractured Essence of this reality Has become a moot point The needle is tied to the thread Of our dysfunctional society You, man behind the keys Pushing the words out Just saying what must be said Continue on as best as you can Lie to thy master Tell him what he wants to hear Not what he already knows There is a lot that he could And does care less about Maybe in time, he will change Only then will the need to lie Become as obsolete as it Should have always been… Lie To Thy Master Written by Keaton Foster Copyright © 2013 |