Looking In
Naked on the inside where the shades of light can't hide you and you think you're fully clothed and getting ready for the ball, but the change that you've defended in the beer halls and the markets mark you down as a pretender to the throne, being thrown into the lions den is what you've always wanted, testing faith against the beasts lurking underneath the darkness.
but show your rounded breasts to Facebook and they'll not think you a Madonna, more a harlot from the other side of town, just a case of many standards and they don't know when to fly one and the one that they have chosen doesn't match the colours in my eyes.
I don't and never have despised the inquisition, lies are smoke screens held to daydreams 'til it all goes wrong.
Friday and my mind undresses
it's dark and no one sees
but the genie in the bedroom.
If you're listening in panavision and
you remember Gerry Anderson then
welcome to the old school on the high
street class reunion.
It's only magic darling
said
the sorcerers apprentice
and
that was that.
Copyright © John Smallshaw | Year Posted 2018
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