by Martin A Smith

The ignoble savage 

The ignoble savage 

Lives behind a big gate 

He rides a giant lion

But eats of paper plates

He knows the sadness

Of his persuasion

He’s a portrait 

Of creeping desperation 

He’s seen the Big Bang 

But never a napkin

Lives in his own world

Of mass imagination 

He’s made of broken windows 

And masks a shattered life

Coz he’s down in a hole

With his head in the clouds 

He’s spent a Bunch 

On an eagles Eye 

Now it’s one step ahead

Of his outstretched hand 

He shuns a public image

No time to cultivate 

He’s going slightly mad

And it’s time to go home 

Published by Martin Smith Creations 2021©️