Say What You Mean - Poem by Mick Page
Considering all the fuss that’s spent
You’d think that something special’s meant
By saying this or that
“I’m everything I say and do”, he said
Of course it isn’t true
He’s only tossing words across a table
And is no more able to spit phrases than old people making faces,
Painting hidden words on others’ ugly minds.
Perhaps I’ll wander round the room unheard
If just to flounder in a sea of voices
And drown inventing interesting choices.
Maybe I’ll find the meanings of the word.
Just once a while I’d like to hear a drip of blood,
A trickle, not a flood
Of words that might be meant, that could be true,
Retaining something partly new.
I’ll settle for some simple lies
If whispered, singing, in your eyes.
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