Playing the Role Never Once Requested

 

 

I could express a friendly face,

Submit my conscience and my talent

To the role I have been given

And gather it with gusto

Like a player upon a personal

Quest for Oscar,

I could sit amiably

With all that’s thrown in

Haste while hate pervades

All around,

     And be known as he

Whom never made a grumble!

 

I could assist a dissonance

Of sorts, and still be likened

Within society as the man

Who ran the gauntlet

Of those who claim

The higher ground

While the taunting

Baits my every day,

But,

That would be too easy

To sit inside their psyche

And know the truth

To be a new found

Fallacy they create

For wrongly so

History is never

Repeated the same

For each and every witness

And though I be a

Truth Seer

I am not without

The humblings of

A man who has desires,

 

I could say a lot more

Tell the score of all I’ve

Seen and heard and be

A bearer of misfortune

But I guess you know already

And so,

And so,

I play it out

Sitting it out

Not venturing out

To see the world

Cave in and watch

The children die!

 

I am going nowhere fast,

Except a fast track to death

And there I know it doesn’t end,

It states its complicity

While in denial

Like the player you never

Wanted to be and freedom

Freedom, to be free

Is not altogether granted

Within the wisps

Of time at the edge

Of vision – the periphery

Of thought that acknowledges

Other sense of beings

Subconscious creatures

Shades of black and greys

And mists of fog

Where debris mangles

Thought and intellect

And I guess, guess

That nobody knows

Where I’m from,

So Guess the guest

From out and in

And skin not the

Knuckles of your

Writers hands with

Scabs of blood

That war torn will

Soon be understood,

You’re playing high for keeps

And skipping distances

Where the meek sit humbly

In leather chairs they bought

A decade of decadence ago,

And though it’s come to pass

That hassles are the given

Norms of every day folk,

These every day folk

No longer give a fuck

If they live or die

Or go to hell or prison

Go to heaven on the

Mercy of the poison

From dollar through the

Pound to marks and yen

And yet,

     Within this world

Corrupted by all extravagance

Of corruptive ways

Where systems fail

And hailed are not

The challenges we faced

But sad demented pleasure

In the downfall of

Everybody’s death,

     Yet,

If we can just stop

Doing ‘it’ to our own,

If we can just stop

The abuse that generations

Of our forefathers have suffered,

We may,

Send

The rising tides

Of misfortune down

Gutters that will

Extinguish – once

For all the fire burning

Bright within a hell,

And if we do,

If we do,

I’ll not tell

The centre of the

Universe,

I’ll not sell

My soul

For paradigms

The neglected

Wounds of time

Can never heal,

I will though,

Say at least I had

A hand in playing

Out this role –

As casualty,

And request the beast

Be put behind

The doors

That never never

Open ever more

Unto the Earth.

 

Michael J Waite 6^th November 2012.