Mar 15, 2023
The Musings of an Arsonist
LE Turner
__________
The genius are psychotic, say envy and criticism,
And mundane men long for talents. Little fools
Who detest the banality that is their birthright.
I am the pride and sorrow of a grey world,
The brilliance that you hunger for,
The madness in your bedsheets.
Once upon a time, a match was held over
A people made of hay, bound together by rope,
And I begged one final question.
“Did you leave me out of love?”
(We genius are the sorrow of the world we’re forced to paint)
I replaced the silence with a snapping blaze,
The match falling to my feet. The mad burn together.
I’m sorry, so do you.