Feedbag

Hey there, Mr. Big,
What's it gonna be?
The apple or the fig
Falling from the tree?

Your life, spent chasing dreams,
Ends. No curtain call.
Your head now hits the beams
To find you're not so small.

Conversing in the mirror,
Just puts the truth to shame.
You see yourself no clearer.
The answers are the same.

Delusion and despair
Walk in so neatly dressed.
They point at you and stare.
Your creases aren't impressed.

What's it really matter
Once you've lost the race?
Perhaps, alone, you'd rather
Look your conscience in the face.

Fumble through your failures.
Pick out which songs to play.
Perhaps we can regale your
Life in disarray.

Waltz around the room.
Offer guests some mints.
You're coasting on the fumes
Of remorse and penitence.

9/12/26
ZONE S5E5