Painted narratives
Of dreams we can’t catch
Chasing down fantasies
As if they’re our thoughts
Conformative words
Like ink stains on paper
Deliberate black smudges
On delicate linen
Mystery fingerprints
Guiding decisions
Perfect scenarios
With knife-point precision
Cutting so deep
Into white canvas minds
Hearts full of soul
Of Spirits
Of flesh
Soft bristle brush strokes
Creating sweet chaos
With deadly deception
And lines of division
In quiet delusions
Fanciful lies flow
In hidden compliance
Draped in red ink stains
The life blood of violence
Broad sweeps of color
Calamity bleeding
Layer upon layer
Year after years
By demented artists
And social engineers
Of hatred
Of mischief
Of miseducation
Relating to science
Creating a future
Of paint-by-numbers
Connecting the dots
Of tried and true formulas
From days long forgotten
Blind driving us forward
All to the same ends
All for the same goal
Fine lines of sentences
In rows of insanity
Patterns of speech
With madmen mentality
Freedom reduced to
The adverse of normalcy
As gray is the color
Of social conformity
Far be it from me
To suggest such a thing
That suppression of color
Is a fatal thing
With all art directed
And colors controlled
Expression contrived
By what we are told
Reactions are counterweights
Balanced with fear
Ideas conditions
Of things that we hear
Thoughts are commodities
Traded like gold
Shifting perceptions
Of lies we are told
Steadfast and sure
As the colors will fade
Numbed to the heat
Over shifting decades
Slow boiling frog
In a pot of confusion
Unable to jump
Off this page of illusion
Meanwhile we dawdle
We watch, and we wait
Manifest boredom
And all that we hate
Subtle as sunrise
Like watching hair grow
In blinded degrees
No one can know
Stripped of ambition
We follow like soldiers
Blank-faced and glazed over
Eyes that see nothing
White is the color of fear by design
Sucking the colors of life
By inception
Everything left is a pathetic display
Where all the paintings
Look sadly the same
The world is a gallery
Of pain and deception
Where colors are blended
Over generations
Slow, steady, meticulously
Into grey

TM DiSarro

From: POKING HOLES IN THE DARKNESS
Available on Amazon