Failed Orpheus

We go shopping for our souls
Finding Kudos in a lampshade
A Hero's welcome in the spills of the café.

Give me a friend to bend their ear
With consequential fears;
Let tears not be the echoes of embarrassment.

Strike Out! Rip Away! Go fall on your face.
You need a few battle scars to realise this pain
ain't going away. Drill a hole in your brain.

With words and blame, send them away.
And leave only your wife and maybe JK Sainsbury.
You hate me. No wonder when all that's left is:

A mixture of apathy, shopping and tea.
I get a flea in my ear occasionally
But maybe you or self-hate will finally go away

And leave only me. And then tragedy.
How will they cope, to others we're constancy.
Constantly bored, separate, together and trashed.

It's no way to live, squash our souls
And go shopping for some meaning
Deface the sanctity of what used to be.

We're dead. Sick in the hearts and heads.
So we shop and we hate and we drink champagne
To celebrate this final hopeless fate.

And part. My Euridice maybe
I'll miss you, collecting clothes like flowers.
I'll not look back, but you won't be following.

I won't despair. Safe with Cheiros, you and
The underworld unite. I won't know it yet.
But sometimes, you'll find me, ear to earth.