The Grin's Mask

The Grin's Mask

Im the joke, the sarcophillic illness to this gastric mind insanity of community,
Im the fool, the disajustment to the culprit of nobleness of the stenched earth,
Im the joke whose words are just plain out of shock and with seriousness ignored
Im the pot of self-pity an assassin to sanity in the eyes of mad rulers, The minority of burden for the rules of our blinded stock.
Im the tongue of a poisoned rune with hollow words empty for the world, embraced by hollow winds.
Im the sharp eyes that run without thoughts.
Im the complex idea misunderstood by a not so complex structure set of minds.
I who welcome scorn into my heart by the solace of the clans of fear.

Choose them wisely they said to everyone...they might stab you while asleep and laugh.
Choose them wisely the ancient ones whispered in my ears for they might not even care to stab or laugh.
Im the end led by fools, hurt by horses high on wings of gold, they will haunt me with guilt for my self assuring ways, they will haunt my veils for the joggler painted in my plastic armor.
Im the coward beaten by hurting words of shame caused by the stiches i file in the ones surrounding me.
The coward that shields with madness and atrophy, the laughing pill swallowed by humiliation and self pithiness in their conjoined lustful ways.
Im the joke whose words are just plain out of shock and with seriousness ignored so sad for me, so sad is the tale of humanity.