ersatZ

“ersatZ”

In substituted things, in battle lines,
In all of my egregious missteps,
I pay the price in feelings, or in fines –
A heart that’s rent, a torn-up quadriceps –

And I can dress up words, and syllables
To speak about the pain I have, or cause,
To many varied individuals
By means of word, or deed, or even pause —

There’s only this: that I must pay, at last,
I’ve drunk and dined, and had all of my fill;
But dinner hour, now, has come and passed,
And I can’t go until I’ve paid my bill

The ersatz truth I tried to substitute
Is gone – and what it was is rather
Moot

Author: Sibelius Russell

Sibelius Russell (a/k/a/ Owen "Beleaguered" Servant) lives a life of whimsical servitude -- whatever that means. View all posts by Sibelius Russell