We become puppets with pellets instead of riffraffs with rattling riffles
The boom of the gun among us instead of targeting the puppeteers
We accept a penny to penetrate our penniless pal
We accept a suit of clothes for the swift downfall our friends
We partake in the taking down of justice for crumbs from their tables
We walk the world but work not our words
We sleep over our words and say it was a slip of the tongue
We say yes before bed but no at daylight
We are captains of mischief
We are capable of deceit
We crack skulls for fleets of exotic cars
We lure to death as a whore lures to bed
We wear pleasing smiles to hide the heart's intent
We leave a posy on the grave of the throat we throttled
We hate petty betrayals and cheap backbitings
Our tender hands hold memories of countless deaths
We have eyes full of love and succulent lips of vain and empty promises
We make chasm for every bridge promised and we spear our dear
All for a change of fortune
A rush for a beatific life.

© Imole Olusanya

@Writco