GROTESQUERIE

(“Gro-tess-ker-ee”)

Copyright 1981, 1983, 2002 Bob Székely.  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

A burning, smouldering yellow smile

Greets you with false charm

The embrace is cold, the manner false

You tremble with alarm

A pounding fear, it screams at you

Knowing all the plays

Of the condescending flattery

That scares in simple ways

Apprehension cries aloud

Seeing past the mask

Of frigid warmth that carries out

The methods of its task

Swirling in a terror

Harmless as it seems

Until it confronts you

Buried in your dreams

What you see controls you

Covertly over-done

Actions that deceive you

Tell you how to run

Caught inside a trap of fear

Six colds sides of lies

Needing help from those who are

The ones you most despise

Open up your eyes

And look at what you see

To protect you from the hidden creep

Of the Grotesquerie