"We shall not cease from exploration and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started
and know the place for the first time." (T S Eliot)
"A dark and chanted verse is what I am." (
Forough Farrokhzad)

Wednesday, November 26, 2014

SCAPEGOAT

Scapegoat.
Goat.
Like a beaten cage fighter
You can’t rise up
And you never will.

Here I stand and the good go by.
Some of them sneer
But none ever ask why?
Why am I here and no longer there?

Scapegoat.
Goat.
Like a punch-drunk boxer
You can’t rise up
And you never will.

Now I crawl, thrashed by whipped words
Of those who never erred -
The worthy horde never wrong,
And never duped by a fraudster.

Scapegoat.
Goat.
Like a spear tackled forward
You can’t rise up
And you never will.

Soon I’ll expire and punishment will end.
This life became another death
At the hands of perfect critics
Who can only condemn.

Scapegoat.
Goat.
Like a horse with broken legs
You can’t rise up
And they won’t let you.


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