Who is they?
Who is they, who tells me everything I ever wanted to know,
Along with the pretty business
of everything I never wanted to know?
Who is they?
I imagine they wear glasses, as I'm told smart folks do
Although I'm sure it was they that say so.
Can they be trusted, then, to be disinterested?
I imagine their big oak desk, even bigger than mine
They must be important, because their oak desk is very large.
Who is they that give the most indifferent of advice
As if they cared, as if the situation was pertinent to them
But the world is connected, I to them and they to me, but again
It was they that say so.
Perhaps their glasses have horned rims, I fancy they do.
They hair is all cropped short, they suits are well pressed
And even further, they are well made.
They faces are stuffed, that goes without saying,
For their breaks are long and paid for.
But the faces of they must be slim, slim and wise
Youthful wisdom, the bitterness gone and replaced
With a smug smile, a mug with their name on it.
Along with the pretty business
of everything I never wanted to know?
Who is they?
I imagine they wear glasses, as I'm told smart folks do
Although I'm sure it was they that say so.
Can they be trusted, then, to be disinterested?
I imagine their big oak desk, even bigger than mine
They must be important, because their oak desk is very large.
Who is they that give the most indifferent of advice
As if they cared, as if the situation was pertinent to them
But the world is connected, I to them and they to me, but again
It was they that say so.
Perhaps their glasses have horned rims, I fancy they do.
They hair is all cropped short, they suits are well pressed
And even further, they are well made.
They faces are stuffed, that goes without saying,
For their breaks are long and paid for.
But the faces of they must be slim, slim and wise
Youthful wisdom, the bitterness gone and replaced
With a smug smile, a mug with their name on it.
posted by Stobux | 3:44 PM
1 Comments:
Well this poem didn't turn out that cool, but it's ok. This isn't actually about any real group of people in my life, as you probably deciphered. I just splurged out this poem because I was writing some other poems, and I thought, "I hate how I'm always saying "they say" or something of that nature" Pretty lame. So rather than deal with the issue, I opted to become very angry at "they" who always say, and write a poem about them. Here it is.
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