I am aware the sky seems blue

Many hands that make up that illusion

It is a glass ceiling and the false gods

Sound the all clear

All is fine

Be well

Nothing to see here

And we believe.

But they lie.

They built the walls,

I simply maintain them

Consider me the equivalent of  emotional mortar

All is not well in the land of infernal vision

The picture is coming in loud and clear

Hard and fast

Humanity is succumbing  too easily to unconventionality.

It’s not enough to accept without questioning why

Haven’t you considered that we are far too accepting  of the razors edge

Not crying out in pain simply because we are told that it isn’t blood

It’s roses



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