Pretend - a political poem.

There’s a girl lying in a cardboard box. Her mom told her to play pretend. So she’s playing America, the best role model on earth.

The girl is dead.

We can live with that, can’t we? Let’s pour millions of dollars into dinner parties and let her rot. Shame.

Like the representation of Livestrong bands. Livestrong, die young. Print off more bands, colors taking away the real meaning.

We could have one saying, “we all need to die.” And it would appear on a child’s wrist.

Don’t hold the statuette too tightly, if it cracks, you’ll see your reflection. You’re going the only way you know and that’s the wrong way. There’s a pit at the end of the never trodden path. Ever wonder why nobody has ever set foot on the skin deep soil?

Complete cycle of life reduction.
Counting numbers and the deduction.
There are more people born everyday.

But more are dying everyday.

‘everyday, two thousand kids convert to smoking. One third of these kids die.’

Have fun with that. Smoke your life away, and we can come up with some head shaking story at your funeral. Let’s play pretend, shall we?

The reason coins are shiny is so that you might be caught up with yourself, the same one that gazes back at you from the shards of glass from the wine cup (harboring your weakness). You will see yourself and not the knife at your back.

I set out to write a small poem, but I want out of my Cardboard box. I want to be able to look around and say, “For now, I’m safe.” I don’t want to stare at others, with there hollow eyes and there fake tans.

I want to lose my paranoia. But that’s impossible, isn’t it? Because we’re our own trap, coiling around ourselves. Playing coy.

Your turn. Let’s play pretend.