Gifts
Snapping teeth will have your fingers,
Scraping flesh if they but linger,
While outstretched to bestow some bounty,
Graciously offered; your plenty,
They can’t forbid what they will try,
They bring a tear with pain, surprise,
Over unexpected mean return,
Until you finally wake and learn,
Get it through your stupid skull,
Your little gift does nought to lull,
For do you truly now suspect,
So blind and deaf, lacking respect,
That in even the slightest way,
I’m dumb to your foul miser play?
Hard to think,
When you give,
You know not,
Your gifts rot,
For they’re mean,
Scant and lean,
Hands bestow,
What can’t grow,
Empty thing,
Surplus fling,
Needless trash,
Flavour… ash!
I cast my eyes upon your pittance,
Some miniscule of repentance,
Some paltry thing I barely note,
A breath of wind away would float,
This insubstantial jot, drivel,
Take a running jump, then go and swivel,
If I blinked it would be gone,
Generosity; less than none,
The filthy scrapings from your plate,
The detritus you wouldn’t eat,
The false fashion you couldn’t bear,
Is the outfit you force me wear,
So I sit and clutch empty air,
And behind my passive eyes… glare…
I’ll have back,
Stealing hack,
All your lip,
With a rip,
I’ll remove,
All that sooths,
Think you safe,
Too naïve,
Or know not,
Awful lot,
Broken gifts,
Far from lift,
Rather steal,
What was real…
My shock is that you don’t suspect,
That what you send is wrong and bent,
Into some mangled twisted shape,
Like innocence after the rape,
Like Adam after apple tasted,
And all that could, ended wasted,
Such arrogance, such true self-love,
Worn, adorning; a skin tight glove,
As such you stroll through all the realm,
Some grinning captain at the helm,
Uncaring you bring all to doom,
Guiding them into your own dark gloom,
This Hell of yours, think a Heaven,
All skin is flayed, and flesh riven.
Broken, spent,
Opened, rent,
Drained full fears,
Refusing tears,
Not one break,
From the fake,
Love implied,
When you lied,
Said would give,
Rejoicing, live,
Together,
Forever…
But raging now, my brutal chest,
Now neither sleep, nor moment rest,
Until upon you my vengeance reap,
And on knees you cowering weep,
Screaming out begging moans and sobs,
Bleeding out, gouts and great red gobs,
Then I’ll sneer at broken promise,
And forever doubting Thomas,
Never learn to trust, to hope once more,
It can’t return what you took, tore,
I’ll wall myself behind tall guards,
And devise most cunning facades,
To keep the world of pain at bay,
And thanks to you that’s where I’ll stay…