A Fish Out of its Water

A mirror unfolds
Before death
Beneath much wealth
Beside a beach
It is a womanhood

Walls are lovely
Erect and eerie
She is made pretty
She is shopped and saved

Somewhere in sales
They bury her soul

Sometimes in savages
They burn her red

All the play and no game
She is fiddled out as ever

Mad bulls never shy away
Polar bears ever stand erect
Only she can bow out
And merchants take her home

Her story repeats itself
And we make storms out of it
'Katrina' went, 'Irene' came
Nothing is lost in Manhattan
Except a few spades and hearts

Rich dad, Poor dad
Mummy spoilt and split
Whatever we need is gingerbeards
And a few running mates

Altar of my eyes
Apple of my letters
Orange of my hearts
All are mere arts
Of deception; for deception