Shallow Grave

I cannot, will not, do not suffer fools gladly especially those dolts that are not capable of recognising or realising the plummeting depths of their own unfathomable foolishness! It is believed that charity should begin at home, or so they say, But, damn, when your every nerve is stretched – elasticated, broken – fragmented; how? How can I? The level of superficiality camouflaged as sincerity astounds, bemuses and, yet, I am not surprised that there are those that are drawn to them as moths to a flame; the utter blindness confuses me – an internal eruption, a soul quake… I refuse to conform to their archetype – their need for acceptance does not justify painting veneers that crumble and diminish, deteriorate and fade; my true self independent and dignified – an explosion of colour, a kaleidoscope of possibilities… I believe there is not only charity in our home but love too, Where all are accepted – embraced, whether broken or not; how? Because we can! I can, will, do take delight in real people gladly, especially those splendiferous spirits capable of recognising, realising the insurmountable depths of their own unfathomable foolishness! Copyright Deon J.H. Burger 2017