A passel of rascals;
The cause of the hassle,
Guilty of the catcalls,
Would normally have pratfalls.
Never suffer from blackballing;
Their ethics are appalling
But greed is calling the shots.
In the end what have we got?

We have a den of thieves
Rolling up their sleeves
To count the loot they stole
Fulfilling their roles of criminals;
Not the least subliminal,
But right out front to be seen
And pictured on magazine covers
With their blow-dried lovers.

Hair and ******* by Mattel
They perpetrate their hell
On all but their rich buddies
And fool the fuddy-duddies
With their rancid ballyhoo.
Yes, they rob some rich too,
But some never knew it;
Rich, not smart, they blew it.

Every generation, this nation
Sires a new batch of vermin
And we have to determine
If this is the new litter or a loner
But instead the fools get a *****
Over some new crook or other
That can afford jet planes to fly
But claims he is a regular guy.

Once the country is a toilet
They’ll keep trying to spoil it
By boiling the bones of the dead
And murdering us in our beds
Because they don’t need us
Except when they want to beat us.
They can just pay each other.
But the country won’t recover.

Forth and back so on and so forth

Madness masking more madness

When a narcissist cries. . .
Big, fat, salty
Crocodile tears of self love

For you to appreciate their

              Sensitivity

So insightful through the most insidious of manipulations
Unaware, blissfully, so blissfully you stay unaware
In some emotional waiting room

Preparing for an appointment
That was never made

Not for you anyway

You're just the vessel
My ride to the store

Paradoxically
To the narcopath. . .

Self love is
Self loathing
Self loathing's
Self love

Those who crave pity
Must first devour all of their own

Then starve at too young an age
From loving themselves
Much too much
Behind a shattered enough stage

A mess at the start
Even cats need learn their own claws

Professional confidence from something
Re-sewn, sutured, glued, reassembled

From pure disaster into smooth alabaster
Sharp at the edges, dangerous
This insightful love of the narcopath

Fierce now unbroken
Statuesque
Whole and all powerful

Distorted fully to experience zero reality
Floating among humans
In irrelevant situations

A deep love shared for the glory
Of one

With the strength
Of one thousand suns

Be careful

Those little emo black holes, ha,
They'll swallow your *** whole

To you, the ground beneath my feet
Every step I take,
you support me.

You stand with me,
in my times of trouble

I am warmed by your embrace,
as I become entranced in your outfit of lace.

Nothing could be more finely crafted,
than my connection with you.

The ages may wear on you,
yet you remain the only one
my sole longs for.

For you truly are...
My favorite pair of shoes.