There's a buffet
surrounding me, albeit
it remains untouched
others succumb to sweet
perfumed fragrances,
yet it only serves as a
reminder of statistics
counting and numbers.
{and I wonder if
I will ever be free.}
One day, perhaps. One day;
this buffet wont cause heart
palpitations or sweaty palms.
No longer will I need to look
for the nearest escape route,
nor think of a thousand and
one ways to divert attention
so I can sweep away the mess
whilst no one is looking.
May as well sit with
Parliament because
just like there,
The image of a buffet is clear. But I think, perhaps, it symbolises self image? What others perceive, body image maybe?
I like the way you mirror the dishonesty of politicians to those ' buffet so called guests'
For me it is a poem to unravel and ponder. Rereading it and hoping to discover hidden layers, much like a magic eye picture. I can never see those and I guess that in itself speaks volumes. :)