Friday, December 4, 2015

Private Eye

Friday, December 04, 2015

They hate it when you give them
All the dirt they could ever possibly want
And they can’t use it,
Because they’re looking to fit you into a mold
But you’ve already made one for yourself,
Avoiding the typical white hat/black hat
Film Noir these guys like to create
In their attempt to create myths
They can sell to their clients,
When everybody should know
There is no distinction, just gray haze
Through which all people stroll,
Trying to avoid the pitfalls and the petty traps
Laid by vengeful, overly ambitious men
With Napoleon complexes
Who get frustrated and dangerous
When anyone gets in-between them
And their petty schemes,
Sending fedora-wearing detectives to stare
Out from the darkened doorways
Across the street, looking to find
The right kind of dirt for the right kind of trap

And all you give them is dirt to bury themselves with.

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