My Architect
My Plastic Architect
Clean lines,
Sleek designs,
The heart of a
Cold-blooded killer.
All for plastic presentation,
And glorifying adoration.
Being in absolute control,
Is imperative,
To his detailed nature.
Critical to a fault.
Greed is the epicenter,
Of his beating heart.
Selfish motives,
Are always waiting,
Just below the surface.
Porsche dreams,
Meager means,
Pinto bean meals,
Broken-down beater-wheels,
Fake veneers.
Pent-up frustrations,
Competitive manipulations,
Skilled showman,
Dirty-diapered man/boy.
Weeks and weeks of sky miles,
Hot ****,
hotel rooms,
And worn-out hookers,
Years and years
Of broken-down dreams.
Not enough time,
For being real.
My plastic architect.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
