The seclusion of confusion accentuates delusions.
When you have spent years putting up a house of cards
The architect either loves or hates their work.
But it is theirs.
So giving someone the credit
In their words, designs,
Gives creative lapses, for beneficence.
They will take the designs from your hands,
Won’t change the stylistic questionables
But will let you know where they are.
And fold the sides of their mouth,
Screaming disapproval.
Warp your views to match theirs,
After all, they are brilliant.
Hang off their conniving words,
Be mesmerised by its dripping
From their tongue, onto your feet
Staining insignificantly,
But drawing your eye indefinitely.
Silence your words of the deficiencies
When you hold such crippling authority.
I have proofed and re-proofed my work
And am already dissatisfied with it
Without a second and third opinion.
I beg you find comfort in the flawed contours of this hotel.
See beauty in the things that cannot be changed without demolition.
Do not throw stones from your diamond house,
You are a reminder that perfection is viable.
You are a reminder that we are peasants in your tread.
But you are the reminder that any marble would crumble
Under your touch.
You are actually a test
That I don't mind taking.
KS