Alex Marks Poet I do not know?

Madness and Mayhem: the Truthful Lie

The smile on my face? Merely a facade
the truth is written in the lies
in an artificial world we belong
the faceless man, in a suit and tie,
whispers and I hear,
that he knows why I grin from ear to ear
but he doesn't care.
So on the clock ticks, bringing us closer to oblivion.
What could I do? But travel aimlessly behind him.
He leads me to a corridor, one that I have never seen before
then he tells me to extend my hand, and open the door
inside, stands a statue made from colorful clay
with a wave of his hand, it begins to decay
rainbows drip from a face once smiling.
I realize it's the image of me residing
and with a sad and heavy heart
we thus depart
back into the world of the organized genocide
with countless bodies floating in on the tide

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Carolyn Devonshire October 1, 2009 at 8:48 AM A powerful, introspective poem, Alex. Time marches forward and we start to age from the moment we are born. How sad it is to think of the "countless bodies floating in on the tide." If the body of each who has died were to land on the beach, it would surely appear to be a type of "organized genocide." However, I choose to keep a "smile on my face" and approach the gift of each new day as an adventure. Great poem! Thought-provoking! Love, carolyn