Prayer for the Psychopath
Your early years were the training
for your life
and all that you think
except that which
dare not be thought
or given a second
in your day
Your training has come from
billions of years
unnamed teachers
civilized control
trauma crowded out by
pomp and circumstance
In kindergarten the scary parts
turned into animal comics
and little songs
to encourage you to trust
civilization and its experts
universities
veritable awards
rewarding the memory
with beautiful things
like the violin
small hands to guide
the bow across strings
gentle like a swan on the water
then to instruct you to be in control
at all times.
No-one to tell you how sweet
your hungry heart is.
So you stay on the window
looking in
constantly arguing with all the voices
carried since the first time
you were told you will never
amount to anything.
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