Dear Thingy,up there in

or beyond the clouds

and based on the assumption

you are what/who the gullible

say you are.

 

Unless you keep

your Second coming promise

while I am still here,

I intend,although futile,

to turn my back

on the acknowledgement

of this jigsaw puzzle

we call existence.

 

I mean-come on guy?/entity?/Mr Nobody!?

this whole scenario reeks of pointlessness!

If you think for one moment

I have'nt sussed the fakery

of the colours you have used

to paint this superficial artwork

on a canvas of kidology-

-think again!

-and give me a fucking break!

 

you aint going to get me

whispering in front of other whisperers

in one of your many

incense aired properties-no way dude!

 

I,m sick to death

on my way to it,

of having to be part

of your nothing collection.

 

I'm up to here

or wherever

with your attempts

to dupe me into thinking

that despite your 'ever so kindly gift'

of crumbling years

there is the certainty

they lead to

the triumphal overcoming of total oblivion.

 

Get real!

(what am I saying!?)

 

its all-HOGWASH!

 

No,look.

Lets have it straight.

It is all instead

just a pitiful share of time

spent in a straw house

knowing that the hurricane IS coming.

 

And after its passing

nothing-

and that certainly includes me!

will be left standing.

 

So while you continue

pulling the wool over the billions

of other eyes,I'm off!

tarrying not

in fingering every actual pie

before they cool!

 

PS-just in case I am wrong

please accept this apology.........

______________________________________________

 

 

© Stef Wilde 2015