Your veneer wasn’t the only fake thing
Your insides were plastic
You could melt it and re-form it
into any version
to lure, or secure
but …all immaterial.
I’ve been the single in double lives before
Caught in that web
The more sensors put out
The more cunning the spinner
till you become part of the menagerie.
The spinners are the same
just different faces
It’s all about capturing;
Perfecting the art,
Self-absorption
But really no self at all.
If you can’t resist the big bad spider
And enter the curiously patterned web,
Once inside and spun
It’s a game to get loose
And reenter at will.
After they try to spin you into submission
They leave you stuck for a while
Deciding when to tighten
When to loosen
If, and when to destroy
Thought smart
they don’t realize
You’ve let them win several times,
fed the ego
just to stay together;
keep the game going
in hopes you’d spin together
a most spectacular web.
At times they spin with you
perfectly in sync
to keep you hoping,
just part of the game
They crave the power to decide
when it’s time to let go,
while just before they do
they’ve built another curious web
hidden from view
to capture another curious sport
a new game,
same strategy.
Ironic,
the big bad spiders seem to compete,
hating each other
yet are mirror images
They keep calculating
every move
trying to keep one step ahead
of the other
and their captives,
And the game wears on…
Win lose or draw
Doesn’t matter
If you didn’t choke
you don’t need to spin anymore
and then…..
then..
….is when you have that spectacular vision
within reach.
Your power to create?
it was inside of you
and you alone
all along..
Sweet freedom!