Colin F. Jones

I THE FOOL

What is more distasteful than truth,
Reality! Stark brazen and cold,
Wherein love and sweet joy is aloof,
Under the burden of doing as we’re told.
The big picture is a perpetual lie,
And God is a manipulative tool,
It does not matter at all if I die,
For I stopped dreaming and became a fool.
What is left then; the impossible dream?
Where tis snowballs we throw and not rocks,
Where we’ve all been where we haven’t been,
Requiring no Sheppard to tend to the flocks.
Acres and acres of green…
No fences, no malice, and no clocks.

We are not all created equal,
There’s nothing more obvious than that,
We are created as different people,
Short and tall and skinny and fat.
You can’t compete with someone who’s better,
(I know there’s a lot of folk better than me)