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michael-marchesePoems
The only road left is A lonely rogue leftist Still cast as the shadow, The villain, The foil The salt in the wound Seeping into The soil To render the once arable An unbearable Barren wasteland Sleight of hand- Written parable Barely still stand For a national anthem Would rather invade All your mansions And ransom The sycophants’ Cancerous Cancel campaign Can’t explain The disdain For disparity’s reign And still stained In its tainted And vitiated Lizard brain Becomes colder And more calculated   A numbers game All I will pay to play These days The rest is just Lack of success Instant replays
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Jul 4, 2022
Jul 4, 2022 at 12:56 AM UTC
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The only road left is A lonely rogue leftist Still cast as the shadow, The villain, The foil The salt in the wound Seeping into The soil To render the once arable An unbearable Barren wasteland Sleight of hand- Written parable Barely still stand For a national anthem Would rather invade All your mansions And ransom The sycophants’ Cancerous Cancel campaign Can’t explain The disdain For disparity’s reign And still stained In its tainted And vitiated Lizard brain Becomes colder And more calculated   A numbers game All I will pay to play These days The rest is just Lack of success Instant replays
michael-marchese
Written by
michael-marchese
31/M
Jul 4, 2022
Jul 4, 2022 at 12:56 AM UTC
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