• Callum Holgate

Correct Me If I'm Wrong

Correct me if I'm wrong,

As I cannot hear clearly

On this golden pedestal

You have placed me on,

But do I hear a sarcastic

Cackle in the silence?

A cackle itself painted

With a sting of malaise?

Perhaps I am mistaken,

But it’s a sound I'm all

Too familiar with by now,

Though one that's been

Quiet for some time.

Regardless, I'll let myself

Down again, and meet you

On your level. No more to,

Staggered, extend the

Olive branch from on high,

As you, like ill-trained

Carrier-Dove, have cleft

The silence in twain.

Hold on a moment, let

Me first remove this

Bedazzled cape, and too

This jewelled mask, as

They contain movement,

And cloud my sincerity,

So that this intoxicated

Handshake cannot be

Administered. They only

Reap what's left of subtlety.

If your goal was to burn

Bridges, then consider

It ash. And so too, I'll

Gift more fuel to the

Smouldering embers.

Though If it were to raise

The suspension ever so

Higher, and dress me in

Oil, then it’s safe to say a

Victor has been crowned.

Though be careful with

The quantity, as a hasty

Slathering of vitriol will

Only make me slip betwixt

Your fingers once more.

But I'll admit, I've fallen,

As I always have for the

Challenge. This begging

For silence is far from fact,

And instead you bay for blood.

Well if misery and slander

Is what you crave, then a

Buffet I shall craft for you.

You always were the chef.

But now 'tis my turn, to

Stir the pot, and carve a

New face into this truth.

Once you've had your fill

Of all I have to say, I'll

Let you dress me again

In the garish mask, and

The glittered cape, so that

The climb to the summit

Of the gallows on the podium

Is all the more strained.

So that you may watch

As I flog my back with this

Ragged quill, leaving you an

Envelope with my initial

Stamped in wax across

The front. Signed, yours,


#poem #poet #poetry #writing

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