Figments of Truth

i look at myself
in the mirror each day
study this decaying flesh
draped on ancient bones
the truth of a thousand lies
buried behind these tombstone eyes
gas on a funeral pyre
match in hand
i set the mess ablaze
wrap a noose around my neck
head off to work myself to death
i’m a train wreck wrapped in a business suit
a facade in need of a coat of paint
polluting the world nine-to-five
looting the gullible
causing trouble wherever I go
i’m living in a bubble
of iniquity
layers and layers of duplicity
shield me from this complicity
i am the prince of greed and collusion
ask me what i think of myself
i’ll tell you i like what i see in the mirror
delusions set aside, it’s a matter of pride
if i tell you the truth, the illusion will die.