Blazing pants are a blazing fiction
Supposition sparks diction
Incendiary flames fry
Shoes to ass
A methane explosion of word salad
Where fantasy and truth coincide

Appeasing unease with pallets
Of things that have no merit
Made up norms of success
Supplied by an abundance of excess
Wild spending feeding a frenzy
To satisfy a soul cringing with anxiety

All the while this addiction
Feeds growing affliction
Of more no matter the cost
Credit cards white hot with loss
And still the pants are burning
Heat slowly rising

With no end in sight
A truly desperate plight
where deceptions scatter temporary
Gifts of pleasure teasing memory
Until it matters no more
And my pants are scorched

So all that is left to see
Is two scorched cheeks
A pile of debt acquired
And no pants for what transpired

11/09/2025

Posted on 11/09/2025
Copyright © 2025 James Zealy