Fate

To loveless marriages and
the men and women who
tore our hearts from our
chest and our heads from our
senses.

Toast again to pristine white
dresses, the tight neckties
and collars of God.
Women dressed in blue and
black, throwing flowers,
catching flies in honey and
throwing them back to the
world without wings

To the shuttered offices and
$300 hours where men and
women sit with knives, ready
to carve out their own fortune
from a dead bloated carcass
lying still on the paper.
Discarded bands and small
tan lines sing of years
forgotten and the acids yet to
come.

To the children that fate
forgot, clutching to any hope
in their darkness, holding onto
any remains of a crumbling
household. Revolution spins
in their heads, tied tight to
betrayal and hate.

Fate never forgot you, so hold
on tight, you'll fall soon
enough