The Silver Platter

Something has to be true

Besides what is true

Enraged at one's own helplessness

Helplessness that is one's own fault

God made us and now He wants us to die

I cannot care

What do you think?

What do you do?

Kneel before you, just for a moment

A child's love is useless

What is there left to withstand?

Margarine spooned into illness

Alone at both sunset and dawn

To persist in inhuman fury

It could have been wonderful

It tastes like a cookie

What do you think?

What do you do?