The verisimilitude of grandiose <br />Sprawled in a perfidious repose <br />On the bassinet of filth <br />Of infinite clockwork: <br />A fairytale or drudgery, <br />And the ephemeral mirth: <br />Sufficient enough to be grandiosity <br />Parallel to my atrocious veracity <br />I need the treacle poison. <br /> <br />I want to touch your face <br />As everyone else does <br />But frost bites in your iron mask <br />Can I graze the quelled sun <br />Beneath the facile veneer? <br />Because as much as I despise you <br />I want your lethal treacle <br />To meander in my plagued throat <br />I need the treacle poison. <br /> <br />Because I am so alone <br />That I hate people for carousing <br />Whilst I squander in a soliloquy <br />With my own loneliness <br />Now abandoning me <br />As the dawn rouses at four A.M. <br />And jealousy notched in <br />In my solitary confinement <br />I need the treacle poison <br /> <br />I wanted to cradle a poetry <br />But I never had the facility <br />I have never been anywhere, <br />I have never been anyone; <br />Please, cut the cord of this soliloquy <br />Because I can be very cold <br />To my bleak incertitude <br />Yes, I do abandon myself <br />For I need the treacle poison.<br /><br />Norman Santos<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/toxic-treacle/
