mythomaniac
dick's a mythomaniac
and he's starting
his routine over
over all again
finding a new robe
to dress his wounds with
and covered up his sores
traumatic slices of flesh
in the name of
previous perpetrators
dick's a museful mime
and a man of many posters
who wont return any calls
someone who's an imposter
ready to make his move
a dancing artist
under live recorded screens
marching to the subsonic boom
of wolves at the door
of his treehouse hobbit hideout
where he stalks
and hunts his prey
throw it all into one pot
warmed by burning embers
igniting neural flammable cabinets
lining janitorial halls
forcing one to fumble
in the globe of playhouse
figmented sticks
that never cross
you're a murderer
the Chinese fortune man tells
we shape our own lives
day by day
how can one see
what hasn't happened yet
maybe by taking the time
to see what already has happened
on a mega boombox
playing the tunes
of your mythomanic
crazed lifestyle
LINK: https://allpoetry.com/poem/16485027-mythomaniac--by-Colvet
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