they said it's human nature
an order of things
something god put in place
not just a body but brains
and like whipped cream
it sometimes curdles
nothing sweet in the
villainous art of deceit
a strained mechanism
a loose chain
the sick fascination
of what can't be condoned

he was a quiet man
ordered to behave
inside the lines of a box
society drew around him

when it all fails
when lines are crossed
and those who said
they knew him well

in reality
knew nothing at all

shake their heads
the violation of a whisper
on their tongues

he finally becomes
what some of us would call

a godly mistake