Just look around each side.
Front to back, everything has turned to poison these days,
Things that were made for comfort,
Things that were made to make it easy,
Things that were an opportunity,
Has turned to poison these days
Opportunities bring up promises,
Promises to tag along till the end
Handles a bottle vial of poison mid-way.
Those who survive, say “good luck to them!”
Hundreds and thousands are we;
Not a block are we,
Handing a torch of liberty and freedom,
As we buy the star stud insecurity and fear,
Feeling the safe behinds the curtains obscurity,
Wearing the fame of mindless pride,
Oh look this is the à la mode addition in the myriad series of lies;
And it is dope.
Please read my second poem, comments and suggestions are highly appreciated