Fictitious White Witches
It’s really just quite vicious
how really real is feigned,
how time is told,
through eyes behold,
a site of such ill-gotten riches,
funny money, phony bologna, fool’s gold,
how is it to be like one of you witches.
That’s life & love
death & dove
faith above,
a fear of,
the fictitious.
Bogus. Hocus. Pocus.
When did reality become another fallacy?
and life,
a little white lie,
if I knew,
I’d surely, surely tell you,
the one who cares,
what it wears,
and, double dares,
things of unimportance.
Once remembered,
true and tender,
now, just, one thing to me,
another pretender.
Nothing special,
nor unique,
just another kiss on the cheek,
you heartless Judas,
you soulless Brutus,
a faker all the same.
I can’t believe I fell for you,
at the end of all the pageantry,
you’re really just quite plain.
a sad sack,
a concrete crack,
a flapping jack,
a tickety tack,
a lack of black,
So fictitious.
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