Cliché

Cliché

 

You find treasure in the lost & found.

A section rarely visited by the cliché.

They hear the sounds of trumpets play.

 

Out of the jungle roars a mighty lion.

Out of the woodwork, do they display?

 

Matriarchs come pouching the Earth.

Mocking birds chirp song of delusional.

Personal interest rises among them.

 

Eyes so blind they wear darkness.

Pretentious creatures lurk the night.

Hindsight not foresight is their greed.

 

Feed from the bottom dwellers.

Fortuneteller could offer nothing.

Everything is something of cost.

Lost like the transparences of time.

 

Climb higher for the hidden truth.

Diluted minds amass like children.

 

Thirst for the knowledge.

Hunger bellies of propaganda.

Found there is no place like home.

 

There is no place…like home.