Son of a Mason Who Made Monuments in Stone

Son of a mason who
made monuments in stone,
no one knows how to go
about breaking to you

the news that the one bone
which yet continues to
grow is ripe enough now
for critics to pick, soon

what you give will kill two
burdens in a single
bound, kick to the curb true
expression and let glow

that neon halo few
get, talent wastes time no

more than newspapers do
deciding how many
column inches to grow
your ego with, attuned

to lies and your head will
expand, fill until truth
demands too much respect
little ends up said, fool

your former Self into
fading from making fuss,
faking belief the noose
is worth being on, so

when the line comes and proof
declines comment, you know.