Laying Down of Arms or Legs....

Laying Down of Arms or Legs….

Lay down your shield
lay down the fear, pick
up the sword, launch
your spear.
Do not hide behind
a kinsman’s tear, there is
no shelter from what’s
now here.

I seek no succour from friend
of our society, this statement I
make in social not religious
piety. There can be no
compromise when dealing
with propriety, not in street,
town, city or deity.

It sucks from me also you,
creating mistrust even if it’s
true. Cautious people glancing,
others sniffing their terror.
Grey men still dancing, it’s
their exquisite show of horror.
Honesty exits the stage by
whatever means, tearing down
streets devoid of work shy
queens.

They’re all in the bakers all
needing doe, what the hell
business is slow. Can’t live
on the afterglow, meritocracy
you dream of, but you must
earn or go.

Follow that car GE52 LXL,
maybe it’s seeking out an
elaborate hell. Just my guess
but you never can tell, oh no
they’re all entering that hotel.

California I can hear a mission
bell ringing in my ears, a bellboy
hops to it under pressure from
his peers. Caked in mud as the
queens left the streets, no one
cares they never left him treats.

Sacre blue the French quartet’s
on guitars, soon we’ll have
spacemen jamming in Mars.
Chocolate lovers scream this
just can not be, has anyone
asked the director to agree.

Ancient stones are turning
someone invented the round,
rolls over this earth hardly
making a sound. Giant dogs
yelp from an nearby pound,
must have heard it fall from
a purse, doesn’t their hearing
astound.

So on to the end lets not falter,
people seek answers but not
from an alter, Sensing an end
a minister bolts for the door,
he’s tripped then sat on by an
alert unfrocked pun. So often
used as the satirical whore,
this time she holds on tight
will you pardon that Nun.

No we can’t waver as we seek
the truth, it’s not what or where
you think it’s going to be.
Don’t put your trust in the
modern day poling booth, or
they’ll gain misdemeanours
and go free.