Surfer's poem: Page3 people
You are the imitator of a vague society
You walk high with a soul so paltry
And you look down the eyes of those,
And feel no shame for being so sultry.
You walk high down the ravishing carpets,
Where glittery gloss flows over around.
Where men talk of gallantry in violence.
Where painted lips make hypocrite sounds.
The tinkering goblets sparkle in splendor,
Ghastly world at its gory best.
Lustful eyes search for loneliness,
Over danced steps need to rest.
And the world outside, so cold and quiet.
Blinding lights better than faraway stars.
Bleak fabrics too had love,
Dreams, reality.... everything is as it was.