Tuesday, January 17, 2012

Scapegoat

Can you hear me?
I’m here.
I know you hear. No?
I need the truth
You knead the truth
So I am nowhere.
Know where.
Not here but where?
I wear myself out
Trying to be heard
By the herd.
I wear your guilt.
You take the gilt
And the gingerbread.
Ill bred. Your head
Held high. Your soul -
Sole-less,
So less than clean.
A fact of which
You’re conscious.
Your conscience.
Out in force
Shouting forth:
Can you hear me?
I’m still here.

3 comments:

Jarmara Falconer said...

Brilliant, AJ I loved the pre-raphaelite paintings and love reading about the artist behind the work

MorningAJ said...

Thank you. I'm not really sure what came over me with this one. It's definitely not my usual stuff!

Stew said...

I thought it was interesting and loved the play on words.