Cardboard Formal Hell

Cardboard Formal Hell

Should life be false as plastic lips?
Should structured smiles be your manners?
But she laughs and you kiss,
Above all of this,
Beyond the gold wine and green banners.

Miniature plates for modest lives,
And doubles helpings of status,
Drunk with each other,
Under your cover,
Safe from yellow truth haters.

Rehearsed speech from bitter dry mouths,
Their practised laughs honed well,
Together you flee,
And from a safe distance you see,
This cardboard formal hell.