I walked through fire for you to hold the crown as a prize.
Imagine my surprise
When you told me you can’t recall my name.
Look at the frame,
The one behind your left lying eye
With me holding the barricades in place, head held high.
But go on and call me a traitor,
Soon you’ll be lacking innocent saviours
To sacrifice on hills filled with sports cars.
And trust me – I’ll walk through fire again to burn down your farce,
I’ll go to hell if it means you’re coming
To get a little loving
From the prince of lies himself.
He would put your face on the highest shelf
Of poor runner-ups
But you would never make a fuss
Because your head would be laminated,
Tongue dilated,
As I let your lips parch
While all those you’ve betrayed since last March
Take away your dignity and leave you to fight alone.
You’re not allowed a word or a moan.
They, too, walked through fire to hold the prize.
Imagine their surprise
When you swore that a paper crown would suffice.
-JW
The Daily Writing of Jackie Wright 