Slurping accolades on Book of Faces,
****** poet **** romances himself.
Lubricating through superego Groups,
disorganization and breakdown of controls
chips him into corner. Bleak
moments of "Like" successes
are momentary arousals,
while blessings of truer constructive
criticisms become real get-offs. Spooging
on his own "Like"-abilities and
word-stock inventiveness he mops up
whatever approval he can.
Internet-tionalistic
becomes his coinphrase. He'll
Google-gunk it up in translation
to any language. So long as it buys him
some sensation. Forgive him,
for where else would he get it?

Be a snowflake.
And dance with me to these melodies
Inside a snow globe made just for you and me.

I realised I couldn't make change,
So I stopped trying to make it,
Now I walk past outstretched hands,
Born to make mistakes.

To take the time to discover the world before we lived in today,
That exists before us,
There so much more,
But have those ancestors ever mattered less.
The history lesson
Feels like detention,
People careless now than they ever did before

And that's no metaphor,
For peace or freedom,
Emancipated in the dawn of mind
But will my generation make more change than the one before.

We heard Cassius clay,
Make that change - from his slave name to rounding an army -
Followers Muhammad Ali.

We heard Malcolm X,
Make that change,
People looking at him strange when he took aim at the oppressors.

We heard Marcus Garvey,
Make that change,
Force thoughts through a better day,
To escape that pain.

We all heard Snowden,
Make that change,
Expose the corrupt,
But he's the one they want to put it in to chains.

We heard Bob Marley,
Trying making that change,
Emancipate from mental slavery,
Of the mistakes our ancestors made.

Now it's time for you and I,
To make that change,
Follow in the footsteps that were left to guide the way.