mεγάλο φινάλε (Grand Finale)

The shelf-life of a hypocrite
is a little hard to know.
As soon as the rule no longer applies,
they’re quick to let you go.
Beware of their changing needs
that flip right on a dime.
Your value fully depends on
the heads or tails inside their mind.

The expiration-date of a ventriloquist
is quite hard to understand.
They speak in tongues
with phrases unstrung,
handing out absurd commands.
They lure you in with a loving hand,
saying you fit just like a glove.
Now you can no longer break free
from their side-mouthed chimney,
you’re a prop in their crazy improv.

The end-age of a mocking mime
cannot come too soon.
They’re a chameleon of sorts
in their mirroring retorts,
and you’re not sure who’s the buffoon.
Hold tight to the sturdy knowledge
that you’re okay in who you are.
They flip on a dime.
My god, they’re the mime!
They thrive on drama and satire.

The death of a steadfast seer
will never come to pass.
Their bodies may die.
In the end, so will I,
but their words will always outlast.
Stay strong. Work hard on your inner self
and all you aim to be.
Quit scratching your head.
Put the performers to bed,
and keep writing snapshot poetry.

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