Synthetics
I’d like to find the inventor of insecure synthetics
And choke him for a bit, just choke him ’til I get it
Cause I don’t understand every damn desire
To conceal away the honesty and wear the label liar
But why do you aspire to change those pretty colors?
Explain to me the reason to change them to another
Let’s say that I’m a lover of the picture right before me
Why do you all assume that the image is so boring?
So, witness me imploring you for any kind of reasoning
Is it for the fun or the spice of varied seasoning?
What is this obsession with your dyes and all these plastics
It’s enough to grade my mind and encourage me to trash it
And do it in a fashion that could be so damn destructive
With fire from the spirit of a man that’s so digusted
Let’s take this vision public and skip right past the effigy
I’ll burn the pretty colors until there’s nothing left to see
So fuck what they’ll sell to see and fuck all these gels
And fuck all the plastics that these magazines sell
And fuck all the blues and then fuck all these reds
And then fuck the synthetics that fuck up your head
And fuck all the lies that wish you to take part in
And fuck every truth that we’ve ever put heart in
Fuck what’s been given, let’s just fuck it all up
Cause I’m too sick and tired to just give a fuck
Notes: One of the first poems in a long time that felt really good to write. Some aren’t going to like it because of the cursing and some won’t like it because of what inspired it all, but it’s really a general rant about the world and one that felt good to get off my chest.
Filed under: Poems