Well if it isn’t your seventh least favourite poet-comedian dropping off further irreverence and vaguely insulting narrative! And damn pleased to be doing so.
We’re going to swing directly into the rhyming today but maybe I’ll unearth some inspiration to blather in the postscript.
“Truicide”, November 30, 2019.
Was there but a single moment
I was not the key proponent
Of my own private destruction
Deviant and foul construction
Imagine spending most your days
Subconsciously discerning ways
To craft insidious regret
And never allow to forget
The advantage and love you spurned
Dark regrets and chaos earned.
Anybody have one of those self-destructive streak things? Could there possibly be anything more illogical? All those citizens out there doing whatever they can to succeed and we’re sabotaging ourselves. Hoisting petards all over the place! The reasons are myriad though inevitably unjustifiable. Deranged penance, burgeoning self-doubt, the ultimate belief in the systemic futility of any action, (I like this one), it doesn’t matter.
Everyone deserves the right to believe in themselves and all should be aware that they are indeed worthy. Devaluing outside opinions is a valuable skill but even more crucial sometimes is disregarding the interior ones.
Read that last mini-paragraph again, you know, for the brain cells in the back.
With that, I must take my leave but I wish you all the pinnacle of happiness this holiday season and always!
A broken mind held together by cellophane and some tack.