The Devil’s Duplicity

Look at me drop everything,
and cover myself in irony;
Perfect lips, pursed,
heavy sighs bottled inside of me;
And so I stagger as I walk,
richly clad in latency,
with the awkward burdens of my unhappinesses;
Trails of carpets under my dragging feet,
to where the crowds stand, adoring a new celebrity;
Clinking glasses I hear and toasts to what others’ drink,
creating vistas of things,
of unimaginable hypocrisy;
I stand there, deplete,
and incomplete,
with a raised glass,
and the devil laughs,
mocking me this quandary.

© soulreserve 2015

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