Taking stands

Is it, far from me to say, what it is to say 
Am I not to hold, my own to assert 
When the need arise, to establish contentions  


And voice displeasure, on conditions 
Would you not want to know 
And in that sense, that way 


Avoid recourse of discourse  
Where broken vases can  never truly 
Be put together again, on mantelpiece 


It would fool no eye 
Not even that of the blind 
It would fool no eye 


Who would pretence be to please 
Desolate with sieving  anger, insanity of enragement 
Wretchedness of truth with identity 


Left hollow to discard wet currency 
Who would pretence be to please 
Holding wet currency to trade 


Tell me, it is far for me to say 
What it is to say
It is far me to say 

Sweets wrapped

Confectionery presented presents, I want 
Packaged with ribbons, its seasons greetings 
Someone wrapped me a parcel sweet 


Candies comes in a mixture of colours 
Grab me a paper bag, extra large 
Scoop me a handful, varieties to have 


Hold me  an edge back, greed to want it all 
But for this occasion in celebration 
Allow me, to grab me, a mouthful to have 


Save me, tooth from rotten hold 
Keep t' tooth fairy away, I pray
Allow me this occasion to celebrate free


Give me, taste bud sweet 
A sensation so great 
Allow me sir, a bag full of celebration  

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The temp job

To stand, in the shoes of another man 
Wearing another man's cloths, walking into his shadow 
Like stepping into the cave, of another man's hide 


I sense an energy, that surrounds, a presence of sort 
Sometimes cold, sometimes warm 
All depending on, the character that once stood 


Perfectly moulded, made immobile to fit an absent vessel 
Like a ship yard still with scaffolding hold 
From ships, that had long been launched 


And this is me in proximity, stepping into another man's environ 
Do I adopt a character, like him from old, that was before 
Like a possessed haunt, to fit into roles, expected to play 


As on bids to be accepted 
Fool the locals, so not to think, to fright, not to worry  
Fear, retribution, for there has been a change of old 


Wearing name badges, how long before comparison of
And expectation to conform would last on demand  
Before legitimacy would be approved 


I would have been long gone 
Before it becomes known by the locals 
That someone else, walked in these here shoes 

Favouring one

Would I favour the fool 
For he agrees with me, always 
A' expresses, no objection on subjects I speak on 


He lays no grounds to withstand a position 
And passages path, he offers free to pass 
Would I favour the fool 


Or that of the sceptic, who always objects 
Even when reasons beyond doubt 
Has been made, tailored, tabled to warrant no objection 


Do I favour his kind, to grant a forced compromise 
For passage as a price paid, too high 
Stiff in his own right to oppose and be seen as so


Neither one do I want in my backyard play 
To have the fool answer for he thinks
To please, and lead me down a plank blind 


Nor the sceptic paranoid 
Who he wraps up, all in a bubble 
And refuses to have dirt shadow, his day 


What of one in-between 
What of one to dance between lines 
What of one with sway to favour  

Losing and Things

In the storm of things, the dawn of things 
Where shadows lay siege 
On the brightness of things 


And blindness attempts to colonise 
The sight of things 
To make void of things 


Where principles and compromises 
Exchange seats and things 
And good men pick up arms and things 


For a cause and things 
To defend, define, protect and things 
The status quo and things 


Remember not to lose sight of things 
To know what they stand for and things 
To be left with value, after the storm and things 

And things 
And things 
And things