Vapor
Copyright 2001 by Matt Gill

Am I listening or waiting for my turn to speak am I
Talking or do I these heard words repeat am I
Sharing my meal with a beggar or king am I
Anything more than the next biggest thing am I
Less than a human when dead for so long am I
Trying to learn now that everyone's wrong?

Haughty eyes cover cowering hearts.

And shed my insensitive layers of coarseness and
Whitewash my tomb now with all the king's horses and
Sit at the feet of an honest Rhodes scholar and
Let all the dandruff pile up on my collar and
Cry at the shame of the pallor of paper and
Perch every day on the throne of my Maker.

Pieces of eight. Pieces of eight.

Tell antics and mysteries and the lessons of history tell
None of my friends of the time that she kissed me tell
Congress and Senate to listen in silence tell
Men of their natural course heading towards violence tell
Truth to nobody 'cause no one will hear it tell
Nothing of hell and you won't have to fear it.


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