The Cruelty Of The Camera by Eoghan Lyng

The Cruelty Of The Camera

It only takes a picture to understand,
That your place has been taken by a better man,
Whose prowess in the sexual field,
Is greater than any you’ll ever yield.

It only takes a snap to find,
Your life has been left many moons behind,
As your noodles cool in spattered fat,
And your company are the latest this and that.

It only takes a screen to show,
There are places you can never go,
As your soul rottens by another drink,
An ego’s pleasure has begun to sink.

It only takes a graph to place,
The perceptions you’ve always faced,
On yourself you must depend,
Knowing you won’t be there till the end.

It only takes a moment to die,
As you glorify another suicide,
The drink tempts another chance,
In this modern picteresque romance.
The Cruelty Of The Camera.

It only takes a picture to understand,
That your place has been taken by a better man,
Whose prowess in the sexual field,
Is greater than any you’ll ever yield.

It only takes a snap to find,
Your life has been left many moons behind,
As your noodles cool in spattered fat,
And your company are the latest this and that.

It only takes a screen to show,
There are places you can never go,
As your soul rottens by another drink,
An ego’s pleasure has begun to sink.

It only takes a graph to place,
The perceptions you’ve always faced,
On yourself you must depend,
Knowing you won’t be there till the end.

It only takes a moment to die,
As you glorify another suicide,
The drink tempts another chance,
In this modern picteresque romance.
The Cruelty Of The Camera.

It only takes a picture to understand,
That your place has been taken by a better man,
Whose prowess in the sexual field,
Is greater than any you’ll ever yield.

It only takes a snap to find,
Your life has been left many moons behind,
As your noodles cool in spattered fat,
And your company are the latest this and that.

It only takes a screen to show,
There are places you can never go,
As your soul rottens by another drink,
An ego’s pleasure has begun to sink.

It only takes a graph to place,
The perceptions you’ve always faced,
On yourself you must depend,
Knowing you won’t be there till the end.

It only takes a moment to die,
As you glorify another suicide,
The drink tempts another chance,
In this modern picteresque romance.

Eoghan LyngEoghan Lyng is an Irish man, who has written from Cork, Madrid and Prague. Currently residing in Glasgow, Lyng continues to refine his work. Aided with the ability to write in English and Gaeilge, examples of his work have been published in Vada Magazine, From The LightHouse, An Gael-IrisLeabhar Idirnaisiúnta and his eponymous wordpress account.

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