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

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