The Truth

In your arms I missed myself
Your kind of warm was getting cold
Talking words that make no sense
Just empty lines of brand nonsense
Manmade morals you twist to fit
And after the deal you made of it
No wonder I can’t raise a brow
It’s no wonder that I can’t relate
No sense of real, no sense of fake
The unobservant nod and smile
Foreign tender, rags to riches
Language barrier, the British guile.
The tradesman deals in empty contracts
Verbal treaties, hollow deals
Vacant small talk breaks the silence
Breaks my heart, the futile gag
Raise the issue and channel thinking
Only a moron dismisses that.


The sad ratio numbers clearly
The sum of wastage, the sum of fear
The heart pounded at the vulnerability
Pushed sweat to the skin forcing out the crime
As if the body was betraying it’s own nervous system
By choosing the right words at the peril of anothers' impression
Their perception as a crutch,
Retrievable at any moment upon hearing the wrong combination.


The truth is detriment my dear,
Why use it against yourself?