Look at you

sitting oblivious,

coffee drinking witch.

Hold your hands up

and scream of a world

with no love.


Blind, deaf and dumb,

where you preach

your God-given ways

to invisible ears

that have no beating drum.

Go on drinking

into a black poisoned cup,

where you see the golden Buddha

that sits on your mantle,

bought by your own hand

and you finally realise why

you have no luck.