My trembling hand removes your disguise
And you stand revealed before my eyes.
The face behind the Scooby- Doo mask
The villan revealed at long last…
That of my former high school teacher
The verbal bruiser and beater.
Your sentence will be I do decree
To be told ” could do better, ” constantly.
Or will I find….
The face of my old church minister
Who thought all I liked evil and sinister.
This will be your sentence I insist
You have to prove to me god exists.
But I could find….
My own face staring back at me
Who is basically just plain lazy.
My sentence for being an idle lout
Is to finally sort yourself out !
I’ve been debating with myself about putting this poem up on the blog because of its content and what it says about me. I mean I don’t normally write what I call “angst ” or ” a cry for help ” poetry but recently with my mercurial mood I find my pen turning to topics like this so here it is for better or worse.