Painted Into A Corner Poem by Robert Sheridan

Not unreal, artificial, feigned,
exaggerated, misrepresented,
nor a lurid version of what has
really happened, but more
painted by the numbers, and
not by famous artists; but
rather by Earth's 'little gods' -
you know, 'people' who you
use to be able to count on like
they were your sister or
brother, but not anymore; now
trying very hard to represent
you on their canvas, with their
paints and brushes, like doing
a half-a'd job on rusted lawn
furniture - only using two colors,
black and white; but wait,
life is no longer just black
and white; some dumb-'a
just couldn't leave well
enough alone, had to use a
rainbow's colors - in order to
cover their tracks, as they
unwittingly paint themselves,
time and time again, into a
corner, and then try under-
handedly to hand some
unsuspecting innocent by-
stander the brush, but oft
times failing to remove their
sticky fingerprints with good
old turpentine - c'est dommage!

'2008'