WS (26/09/1978 / Australia)

Soured Times

Vinegar paws and feline features
shadows the truth of wisdom behind your eyes.
Spoken depths left open
perhaps it's a friendly disguise?

Little intellects talk to you,
they know that it's okay.
But it doesn't really matter
if you haven't had your say.

Spelling atrocities,
you're watching your words.
These aren't illusions
or Hollywood grandeur.

For all spoken words
and untold truths.
You're confusing me;
thought I'd nothing to lose.

So now I stand
vacant sign flashes red.
Left with lamenting
and a twisted head.

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