johnny doe’s lament

lifes a bit boring 
without the whoring 
without the drugs 
and ecstasy hugs 
without the drink 
we'd never see pink  
without deadly sins  
life never begins 
we'd just remain clay 
for the sculptures to flay 

everyone hates lies
until someone dies
then what whoppers they tell
forgetting to send us to hell
never speaking ill
our lives they distil 
to cure our cyst and boils 
they cover us in salted soils 
so our stories don't grow 
here on earth's death row 
no ones left to verify 
that we all could fly 

© bg 2021