Poets, artists & mischievous folk
Proclamations & unsorted semi-true theories
Stories of unfounded revolutions
Their propaganda always makes me a little leery
Taking creativity as an undisciplined religion
Allowing me to remain high on dopamine
Though I’ve never been one for public consumption
Hiding behind my words; staying forever unseen
Image by Karolina Grabowska from Pixabay
Civil disobedience
Marching against their sullen grain
Public executions of our citizens
The ones whom systematically resemble our pain
Exhibitions of our worst character traits
The trembling hands with transcribed blood
Outside of the panoramic eye
Yet all the same, caught in the seismic flood
A taciturn refusal to simply exist
Check your feed for what revolutionaries say
Bold proclamations & campaign slogans
But eventually the media hype fades away
Some other crime or scandal to catch your eye
Lights, cameras & we all return to normal instead
Forgetting those who can’t whore for Zuckerberg
But the people still live with a price on their head
Let the people think
Let them act for their own good
To choose their lives
What’s best for their neighborhood
Stop your agenda of hate
Stop this aim of shame
Most have never wronged anyone
This is real life, not a political game
Take your proclamations
& shove them in your fancy tote
Go back to from where you came
& don’t tell us how to vote
I’m doing my best, can’t you see
Amidst the horrors of our modern day
The ghost stories rising in the mind
The times when you’re in your own way
You grab at your head in pain
The frustration of structured expectation
Pressures of their unintended demands
Prompting proclamations of demarcation
