Gord

2024-05-19 10:33 pm

All the things he wants, the things he loves, 
Of all things, he flaunts, to fools in the bar.
He feels his playthings belong at home in a box. 
Amongst drawn straws, he stands like the water,
And so does his daughter, and her daughter,
They will never know a child without a scar,
Who will never see an adult full of laughter.

The sweet smell, is all the gardenia in the yard,
Despie his greed, they keep growing tall.
Despite what he sees, and is appalled by,
Between the mirror and the wall, 
Is Athena and Cordelia, and appearances.

She is nonheterogeneous, considerate,
So, like lavender she stays with the wall.
But really, these are just things he thinks,
Knowing little, choosing again, rolls dice,
He lost.

And she takes every piece of his flesh from the bone with a knife, like god.