blue (color of delusion)

amidst the
humorless prose
the hallmark verses
around lines stolen
from the poets
he clearly stalks
lies the tragedy
of a midlife crisis
that took away
the wife he found
no value in
the children left
better off without
a father’s lies
the pathetic heart
of a failed accountant
incapable of
any meaningfulness
leaving a trail of
dead relationships
across the aether

what lies will
this middle aged spider spin
to ensnare a new victim
what promises of
the love he claims
he is unsure he feels
will he expouse next
who will he pretend
to be while knowing
he is nothing
a sad old man trying
too hard to be more
constructing a room of
thirteen doors
all leading nowhere
like every relationship
poisoned by
his need to be both
the biggest victim
and whitest knight

he is a cockroach
scurrying in the dark
a blemish on the art
he wants so badly
to be a part of
an empty vessel floating
on an ocean of falsehoods
destined to die alone
and no one knows it
as well he does himself

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