MISTAKEN IDENTITY

I’m down
my words
are
badly dressed

my thoughts keep on
getting bad reviews

I get mistaken for
a second rate clown

I’m in need
of the exit door

I have to escape
from the karma police
they are trying
to frame me
for someone
elses life crimes

I smile on the surface
to try and buy some time
but the karma police
are’nt going
to change their mind

I am guilty
in their eyes
they want my confession
for me to welcome
their oppression

to become
a faceless number
another innocent victim
to be punched
into big brothers computer

they fill my hands
with broken tears
inject me full of paranoid fears
nail my hands to the desk
guarentee to make
my life a mess

unless I forsake my liberty
and confess

(C)2007.23.7 Lenny Gazbowski