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Ghostlimb
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Exchange
Sincerity is a hard hand to play
Cutting down all our old friends
Awash in sarcasm and alcohol
With the banalities of pubescence
Where such arrogance is no luxury of the defeated
And the notions leech circumscribed by boys' speech
And all empathy is unseated
When your knees get weak
And your conscience falls fast asleep
Do you water the native grass
Like the internalized weeds
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But the debate rages
If we're detracted or augmented
If our skins grow thick in cruelty or improvement
I am sure some would stop us right there
Under the auspice of containment
And I am certain that some might find it scathing
But wit sarcasm and criticism
Form the basis of further conversation
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