S
Strat Man
New member
For the Love of All
Gold runs through her veins, blank cheques from very good friends
Diluted in her mistakes, clear in writing, silent in speech, amicable with face
Without lies in the crevice of her cake, mauve, black and tan, colours of a racial catastrophe
She cries tears of silver, spits wine from her lips, sips champagne in the interval
She spells righteousness with her fist, curled wide open for revenge
She dreams of platinum in her hair, bronze at her feet, all others cold in cement filled boxes
And yet, daringly slow, she claws her way through crowds to surpass the unachievable
Deluge of plastic running up and over her
Glossed in appearance, false in pretence, spilt over in by products of her metal delusion
She stands, for the love of all, enamoured in a sealed black bag.
Gold runs through her veins, blank cheques from very good friends
Diluted in her mistakes, clear in writing, silent in speech, amicable with face
Without lies in the crevice of her cake, mauve, black and tan, colours of a racial catastrophe
She cries tears of silver, spits wine from her lips, sips champagne in the interval
She spells righteousness with her fist, curled wide open for revenge
She dreams of platinum in her hair, bronze at her feet, all others cold in cement filled boxes
And yet, daringly slow, she claws her way through crowds to surpass the unachievable
Deluge of plastic running up and over her
Glossed in appearance, false in pretence, spilt over in by products of her metal delusion
She stands, for the love of all, enamoured in a sealed black bag.