Death of An Idea

death of an idea some where sitting in my easy chair to watch the news. tsk tsk ’s rolling off my tongue traveling in the opposite direction to my finely prepared coffee. i am a phoney in all. what is seen and heard, truly repulses me; it is inhuman or is it too human. I cogitate munching a sweet biscuit. a twinkling of an idea tries to be born but its smashed with a million reasons, “why not” safe here keeping my sword in its stone. too old, deserve this rest. fought my battles got the scars to prove it. those scars are healed. too frightened is the truth! pacify with, not the only one wait until some one else speaks up but is that all? just wait and swallow the empathy choking strangling life with a secretive smugness. speak out as we each, given the words to speak, slide them under the poetic door, unseen.