no refuge by vagabond ©

no refuge

the lies
piled up like dead bodies
the optimism
bled and
drained from us
at every turn
even acquiescence
yields no reward
for the massive

and rebellion
is still seen
as a means of calling
the kind of attention to yourself
that everyone will tell you
is slow suicide
but is actually state homicide
when they put you
down by law

as if living were forever
and there was some safety
to be found
everything a lie
all of it
as if the lies eventually
become truth
if repeated ad nauseum
and there’s no refuge
not in acquiescence
or rebellion
and if there’s no refuge
then what do we have to lose
but the illusion?

-vagabond ©

Note: April being poetry month i wanted to challenge myself to have a poem with an accompanying piece of art for each day of the month posted here in this space… Share what you like… both on line and off…



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