An illusion am I not?
An exterior of complacency
Naivety
And conservativeness
Two sided coins
Flip them and dumbfounded you will be
Saints on the outside
Sinners faced down
Righteous in appearance
Yet secretly takes pleasure in his harlot
He helps the less fortunate with their struggles
While smiling on the inside at what awaits him
At the corner inn
Words of prayer uttered by her dry lips
Out of love for Him they most certainly are not
Good deeds she partakes in everyday
Yet inside secretly plans to meet with
Her forbidden lover
A façade am I not?
An interior of discontent
Knowledge as vast as the sandy deserts
And as Gothic as any punk on Melrose Ave.
This poem was written out of pure discontent at what I observe of some people’s behavior and their lack of honesty.
*Melrose Avenue is a strip in L.A. that is known for Gothic/Emo/punk hangouts..it kinda brushed off on me…
Amber is the Color of Her Energy 