The Cynic Within

Collectors at my door, poor fools!
I feel it drip, viscous and thick,
from the curve of a disparaging lip.

Venom loaded words explode
A torrent of controlled contagion.
Pessimism peaks from cruel thorns,

Barbed tongue tasting and teasing
the tender shoots of optimistic dreams.
Torn to tatters by disparaging words

I let them in, tolerate fantasies of good.
sceptical arrogance meet ambition
and aspiration, unfair melee? So shoot me.

Gestation period of bile? a moment only.
Vile this distaste, a wasteful emotion.
Sanity set to eradicate inane notions

Screw enthusiasm, a misanthropic bent.
Cynicism leans hard towards mean.
Fair? The world discourages that game

scornful of philanthropic fools.
Tools of thievery, pretensions of charity
Culture vultures resuscitating lost arias

Purse closed, intent disclosed to all.
Jabbed and gored by intelligent words,
They tumble educated, from my door,

spiked by spite aimed to edify.
Erudite direction, kind persuasion.
On every God (damn) given occasion

The cynic within smiles.

© Dave Kavanagh 2016

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