Eye of the Beholder

He is just a middle aged mess in a metaphorical tower

Sits up there smoking fancy cigarettes, sipping sparkling wines and cussing just to cuss

“Fuck you, you fucking fuckers” and other meaningless mantras he belts

To the horror and amusement of the brain baked minions below

I am delightedly laughing, just one of the crowd on the street he doesn’t see

But I am watching and believing there secret lies a heart sweet and deep

Finding that I adore this angry troll

Supposing that just one kiss and poof! Perhaps a prince!

The day comes I climb the tower with flowers, lipstick and cocksure smile

Galiant, and ready to bequeath my maiden virtues, find horror in truth as reality shows:

Sometimes a beast on the out apparent, too right even more beastly within

Confused and suspecting trickery, my darling oaf unkindly chucks me out the highest window

Flesh splatter, bones break on the hard concrete and all dreams of happy sunset and fairy tale ending fade as eyeballs now prairie dog meat