THE INKBLOT TEST

When I cease to be, what will my head-lines read?
What words will be written on this page I cannot see?
Who will sum me up in a page a column, or row?
Will the headlines bleed betrayal?
Or paint a picture of my soul?

Will it summarise my failures
Or celebrate my wins?
Would it even be a fair assumption if they failed to see me, from within?

Would they choose to write with basic words, thus legible to all?
Or will they dance with words, on all four pages, like I’m Cinderella at the ball?

Will they create a saucy gossip page, so every word is read with care
And assume that people faintly read, if dirt is not laid bare?

Who would really,
                              care to read,
                                                   my TRUE daily life affair?

When the truth is somewhat boring, and propaganda wrapped around my hair