totalitarian whiplash

 

the straight lines drew you
they were drawn to draw you
but finish the thought
those clouds look lovelier
than old cement runways
they call the road ahead
why did you leave it unsaid
what left inside and wouldn’t come out
where is that morbid postern
you crave the guilt on minutes on wings
that sneaks out on work
ethic turns to gloat
as you soared and swooped
swallowed then subsided ashamed
where did they go
stand them and show me their creed
what they achieved
where they flew
how many flutters to unseat you
how many guilt burns before
the circular saw is through
you are no example
you have none
you are nothing at all
but element and spirit
a color that cannot be made again