Life Is A Loaded Sconce

Between third and fourth there is a crack
in the sconce but I have kept it a secret
even though I might be blamed it wasn't me
it wasn't I think it was our leader who did it

I watched him from the stairwell
from way above up in a corner I was a spider
spying on his hair his jowl his ugly shoes
waiting for him to fall somehow but the railing
was there and caught him in time that is
what it is for after all isn't it

plus the sconce showing him
a thing or two with its jagged pieces

things will never be the same
that much is sure as the bombs
fallen all over the world
can never be taken back
put back into their casings
planes and platforms

I will report it over and over
what  needs mending