Pink

I sit on the bottom-most step
on a stairway that leads to the past.
The anger I feel is so hard to conceal
so this deep breath is not going to last.
You’re standing ahead of me.
She’s there instead of me;
curious look in her eyes,
like I really repel her.
I don’t know what you tell her.
I guess you’ve been spreading more lies.

I move to a table and sit down to eat
my last supper, warmed up in a pan.
If I were entitled to have twelve disciples,
I’d swap them for one honest man.
You talking behind me,
bragging quite blindly
while playing the good Christian role.
You praise her in favour of
cards on my table
that could help resurrect my lost soul.

to be continued...