A Purpose with no Place (Narcissistic Traits)


It’s true you take an iron brush and match it to your sterling face, and cut yourself a brand new smile, for pleasures purpose, born from style, and hurt and hurt, and think that’s great. Such goes narcissistic traits, a purpose with no place. He pours himself a bit of drink, the kind that helps ask for a date, and then he combs his thinning hair, and dabbles Polo without a care, for he does think he smells like love. Instead she thinks he smells enough. Such goes narcissistic traits, a purpose with no place. She has to sing at six, a piece about the Ritz, and before all she shakes inside, afraid her voice won’t play outside, it’s all about what she must do. Me, mi oh my, her range so high. Look now no nerves, I touched the sky. Such goes narcissistic traits, a purpose with no place.

He practices to have the job, to answer questions, of all he’s done, and lie and tell of great sales deals, his only weakness, he works to kill. Cold eyes that darken without rhyme, psycho oh phatic, false emotion is no crime. Such goes narcissistic traits, a purpose with no place. Before the pearly gates, she’s done a good work, so she claims, and with each blind child, side by side, she’s gone the extra mile. The tear within her eye, the camera caught her best true side. For isn’t it a shame, she needs appreciation all the same. Such goes narcissistic traits, a purpose with no place.

A king or a beggar’s stride, within each lies a deviant lie, for all we do and try, in vanity, we gift the lie. To take without a thrill, to climb a mountain, and call it a hill, in pride, it’s all the same, to give unto others, and accept the fame. Such goes narcissistic traits, a purpose with no place, a purpose with no place. – 05.12.2015 – דָּנִיֵּאל

Image – Narcissus and Echo by David Revoy