Falling

You wear your shackles well
Your prosperity like cheap perfume
The difference is hard to smell
For a darkened shit-fed mushroom

It’s a fairground three card trick
And the money card is in the middle
But you’ve fallen for Tory shtick
Like accepting the “truth” of a riddle

We’re falling at a different speed
But we’re all falling to pray at their feet
Like wounds that refuse to bleed
They delude you with high flung deceit

You feel like a peacock in plume
But you’re carrion beneath circling skies
A morsel wearing cheap perfume
Neo-chattel marching to your demise.

Advertisements

One thought on “Falling

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s