Scapegoat

It’s not very hard
To perceive
I’m the king
Of the privileged
Condemned,

Losing my breath
With each blessing
Which hurts more
Than any grace
Should

By these gifts
Which scathe
Like belief
Riddled with glass
That has shattered

And scattered
Through grains
Without notice
Along this coast
Doubting waves

As oceans engulf
Many ships
Alone
In my mind
Growing faithless

Where daydreams
Drift
Beyond beaches
Into jagged remains
Leaving scars –

How agony floats
Certain vessels
While others
Just sink
Into vagueness

When reality
Drowns
Every moment
Worth swimming back home
Towards the shore,

Since scapegoats
Notice no blood
As conviction
Washes
Their redness

But merely
Savor such burning
As seawater’s
Salt
Enters wounds

To redeem
Those forgotten
Remarks
Counting each sand
Chasing pebbles

Remaining hurt
Now on purpose
Sunken
Below every
Name.

  • J. Pigno

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