"avoidable" poems
Iron which has been exposed to the rain, is likely to become rusty.
Weakening, brcoming fragile along the way, changing colours.
Because it couldn't resist the cruel, cold, pungent, sharp rain,
which has been brought by onimous, dark, clouds.
Those have come to claim the heavens, in malice, for themselves as they spread their offspring, letting it fall to the earth, fertilising it.
Once standing proud, the iron faced the weather carelessly, brave,
in such sense that it might have looked intimidating, impressive and
of course noble to some degree.
But for now it has aged, has become frail, feeble and slender.
Distorting its structure until suddenly it is not capable of holding
itself together, falling back down to the earth from which it came.
With enough care and treatment, such a fate would be avoidable,
But it is overlooked, chosen to be replaced instead of getting enough attention and so the metal decays in its oxidation, through time.
Until all of it has become a soft, crumbling powder.
Ruined by the simple raindrops, coming from a stormy day.
~ Umi
Feb 9, 2018
Feb 9, 2018 at 3:26 AM UTC
I know it hurts like heavy nothingness, and it feels like everything was pointless. Like it was all wasted time and effort and feelings, avoidable heartache, disposable passion. I know it hurts, and you’re hoping it’s all a lie, that you’ll close your eyes and everything will go back to the way it used to be. But even though it feels impossible now, you will learn to let go. It may take awhile, and it may always sting, but one thing that’s certain is that you will be okay. You’ll learn to breathe again without wincing, you won’t flinch at the sound of her name. First it’ll be a day, then two, then weeks and months and you’ll forget all about the pain. You’ll smile and laugh and it won’t be fleeting or fake, it’ll be real. You are going to be happy again. I know it hurts. I know. It’s okay that it hurts, you’re human. But I promise you, it won’t hurt forever.
Apr 24, 2014
Apr 24, 2014 at 10:18 PM UTC
just don't mention
that
a
child
is
vaccine
damaged
the school
system
is
********
that mobile phones affect the developing fetus
or that obesity is avoidable
or that what you eat affects your health !
Jul 27, 2012
Jul 27, 2012 at 3:14 AM UTC
i don’t always like
contentment and simplicity
because i love waking up smiling
and falling asleep smiling
and the feeling of my heart racing
from the onset of a new adventure
and loss and pain
can be just as exhilarating
because while it hurts,
there’s still an opened door
somewhere
that promises hope
of a better future
so when i’m not immersed
in a beginning or an ending
and i’m stuck in the middle
of monotonous emptiness,
i am at risk of throwing myself
into avoidable heartbreak
just to feel something,
anything at all
May 10, 2013
May 10, 2013 at 11:48 AM UTC
Dear Depression,
I see you. We all see you. You're not very avoidable. Those slivers of light you try to enamor us with. How death seems so delicate when we talk of flowers and restful slumber- for all eternity. What the lights do not show; a grotesque, scaled abomination with a gluttonous appetite for happiness and life. I can't let you gnaw on anymore souls to leave nothing, but sunken eyes and bones. They do not belong to you nor were they yours to take. You're not welcome in the mind's of my friend's and family. Life is welcome in their heart's where joy can still be found. Don't find yourself slithering down our throat's anymore, in the empty stomachs or scars we have. The thoughts we think when you entice us are dangerous. You stole her. You stole him. You stole me. I can't recognize the stoic, numbed faces I gaze upon. You undo any progress ever done.
It's been so long since, I've heard them laugh or flashed a smile I meant. Still, your might looms over as you admire the damage you've caused. Next, feeling the audacity to sneer when we weep. Depression, you're a monster who causes nothing, but suffering. Those tears are not your's to season hopelessness with. You make the covers seem like the most comfortable coffin, you make our skin look as if we've fought thousands of wars. The sun an inconvenience with the days in reverse. We've tried to compromise, you are no friend. Just a foe.
Depression, there are so many things I want to do to you. You break my heart when all your captors don't believe they are worthy of love, but they are the ones I love most. I will break you like, you've broken us. My bare hands would reach into your chest, ripping the lungs out; stomp on them to preventing future sufferers. I would crush your heart in the palms of my hand's- praying for the sickness and terror to end. These innocent people you've robbed of life, love, happiness, opportunity and a soul. Will have their revenge. Your blood covers our skin and we bathe in the warmth of redemption as our thought's belong to us once more. We let the pain held inside escape our sutured lips, begging your soul to ascend back into the abyss never to return. Your bones are mine to assemble a castle for the broken to heal. Your skull resembles a crown honoring those who had given into the temptations of surrendering. We honor them.
Oct 21, 2017
Oct 21, 2017 at 9:29 AM UTC
Depression?
That's easy,
just change your perspective,
pop a few pills and you'll do just fine.
Anxiety?
Why can't kids handle stress these days?
It's not such a big deal,
just man up,
take your meds and chill out kid.
Gay?
I don't understand,
just stop being gay,
its a choice.
Terrorism?
Just blow up the whole country,
it's just that easy,
the government is just too weak.
****
Just don't get *****
its easily avoidable,
just stop wearing short skirts and smiling like that.
Drug abuse?
Just stop taking them,
my uncle quit smoking last week,
its not as hard as people make it out to be.
Child trafficking?
Just get those Navy Seals in there,
the whole thing will be over in a jiff,
its not so difficult,
people just don't think.
Third-world decay?
What does that even mean?
Just let em go,
they're not doing anything anyway.
No.
Just No.
Nov 28, 2013
Nov 28, 2013 at 2:35 AM UTC
There comes a time in everyone's life where they have to ask themselves is it worth it. I mean I have the American dream right? I think they're all lies told to make you think you have to reach for something or life is meaningless and wasted. All these empty goals reached don't make me happy. The process is still voided and leads to a dark hole. At 20 my life was never the same and I don't know whether that's good or bad. Just memories to me currently. I can swim a little, but the waves still still get me ashore. Trying so hard some would say I lost my black card. Some would say my sanity is at risk for extinction. Then I ask myself did it ever exist. Both my sanity and this dream I call mine. Land mines in a field if you ask me. Rat traps to keep you trapped in thinking smaller than you are. Delusion of grandeur leaving me thinking I'm greater than I really am. Balance is the key that kept my door locked all my life. They don't tell you about balance. They tell you failure is avoidable and leads to pits. But really you have to fail to succeed and too much success will ruin you. Oxymorons that's tell you that it's okay to be fine with not being where you want to be.
Aug 9, 2015
Aug 9, 2015 at 2:57 PM UTC
Myths:
It's not dope, it's chronic so chill out
and I'll pass you that blunt.
Better off high on positivity.
Than down from negativity.
Sulking in all of my
strung out,
burnt out,
and miserable glory.
It's not dope, it's chronic so chill out
and I'll pass you that blunt.
If you can drive in reverse, you'll pass the test.
Just remember to keep one eye on the mirror
and the other one on your back.
The road is full of black holes
that only wish to break you down
in a dark, depressing ditch.
People keep calling me the anti-christ.
Today, I'm flattered.
Tomorrow, I could be flattened by their stones.
I'm trying to scare away the stupid.
It's not working.
Cause I'm an idiot magnet.
The black sheep is always first to get
exiled from the flock.
You'll find more life in a cemetery than you will in my heart.
Cause magic isn't microwavable it has to cook the real way.
They say time is always working against us.
But what they really don't know is that time doesn't exist.
We will always be here.
Rapid cycling mood rings:
I used to control my mouth
until I cracked under the pressure
and bit my tongue off.
The world is out to **** me of everything they can take.
I got my dress shoes on and my wallets loaded with condoms.
I know what is inevitable and what is avoidable.
**** get's better.
Mar 12, 2012
Mar 12, 2012 at 5:23 AM UTC
So I have a confession
My dad's a cop
Yeah, my dad's a cop he's worked his job for 30 long years
In that time he's probably seen a lot of messed up things that would probably drive most to insane laughter or ****** bitter tears.
Now you may be asking.. wait where are you going with this?
Are you going to register some harsh anti police sentiment?
Much like there is good and bad in the world, there are good and bad cops
That's true, and most are in agreement that these problems are a avoidable and should stop.
The fact there needs to be a distinction between "good" and "bad" cop
Is already a problem, so it seems as if we're ******* already from the top.
But, call me an incurable optimist
Because I think and know in my heart that we'll find a way out of this bloodstained mist
Not through division, but unity
And when we finally move beyond this... what a day that'll be...
Jul 10, 2016
Jul 10, 2016 at 2:10 AM UTC
My head is not set on straight,
Avoidable actions that I take feed my hate,
Manipulating, deceiving, my gentle mind has gone,
‘beware the green-eyed monster which doth mock the meat it feeds on’,
The evil Villain of my own story,
I’m the only one able to abhor me,
Searching for happiness bed by bed,
Unable to save my own head,
How my heart feels I am never sure,
Consumed by lust, just begging for more
Sat alone, feelings of fear start to itch,
You know what they say; Karma is a *****
Feb 14, 2018
Feb 14, 2018 at 7:08 PM UTC
What if there was no light,
No inclination to fight,
Mountains, all feasible to climb;
To be in anyplace, and anytime.
What if love was a verb,
No pitfalls, no feelings to curb,
True loves lost in abyss,
No one to meet nor miss.
What if death was avoidable,
and people weren't exploitable,
Earth as Eden;
No sin, no wrong, even.
What if sadness was eliminated,
No choice debated,
Just action, speaking before thinking,
Leaving all people sinking.
For death is still a shadow,
The bite-mark is in the apple.
Love is fate,
ships of sadness and pain:
Humanity as the first mate.
Always surrounded with quandary and question...
But one thing yet to mention:
Eliminate all questions of "what if" in mind,
Then there shall be answers to find.
Apr 8, 2014
Apr 8, 2014 at 10:01 PM UTC
There was a girl named Nancy,
Her habits were all outgoing.
Once she became too busy,
Directly for nine months.
Thanks to all of her habits,
Blocked're all the incoming.
She did not want PregNancy.
She was impregnated by a boy,
His hormones uncontrollable.
Worked not any of the Pills,
Now busied for 9 months.
Used to each 1 of the thrills,
But none of it was avoidable.
Thanks to her being a tomboy..
Nancy was the girl in pregnancy,
Her repentance was no point.
Old habits are hard to go,
She may not be loyal.
Now she hides it,
For avoiding it.
The insult...
As for the boy here,
Aged just 15 like her.
He fumbled to suicide,
And she was destroyed.
She can't name the baby,
Not now, not now at all.
How will she name the baby?
As it was supposed to be,
She will behave a ******
Will she name him Jesus?
Dec 30, 2016
Dec 30, 2016 at 5:26 AM UTC
Question: What do you do if your car crashes?
Answer: Don't crash your car.
I drove myself home from the hospital the morning after I drove myself insane.
A note in my hand listing ways the doctors could direct to get me home safe from my own self.
Come to a full stop at sharp edges,
Steer away from liquids you can drown in,
Put in your caution lights so people just drive around you,
Take your medicine,
Don't drive alone,
No not that medicine
Here's a phone number in case you have something worth saying,
Bus to class,
Unless that's too hard.
Flunk out
Call your mother.
Don't tell her everything.
And it becomes a challenge just to say I'm not okay.
Because after a disaster like mine,
No one wants to hear you haven't healed yet.
And I can't count the number of times I've been offered a vaccine instead of a remedy,
and scoffed at when the cast comes off and I'm still a little too broken.
As if I haven't healed fast enough.
Don't tell me I'm being overdramatic,
Don't tell me I chose the broken glass,
the bending steal.
That it was all avoidable had I just not blinked,
Had I just slowed down and stopped to think
Had I just snapped out of it.
I wouldn't have crashed.
Question: Have you ever gone driving in the rain?
In the snow?
Cause then you might know how it feels to lose just a little bit of control.
And the next moment find yourself in the bottom of a ditch,
waiting once again for someone to pull you from the wreckage
Because you can't save yourself.
I wanna save myself.
And I don't need to know how the engine works.
Just teach me to read the warning signs when I'm heading south and there's no way for me to turn around.
Let me know that when I start to let go, there are safety nets 'cause sometimes my mind is more of a balancing act, the bridge accident than a joy ride
So give me air bags,
give me seat belts,
Give me a crash test dummy.
If I cut the brake lines, show me how to coast to a stop.
Because people cannot live in a plastic bubble, rolling around at 5 mph for the rest of our lives,
repeating caution signs:
Don't blink,
Don't breath,
Don't move,
Don't freeze,
Don't drive,
Don't park,
Don't live.
Don't tell me don't tell me don't tell me
this is defensive living
Sometimes veering off the road, eyes shut tight on a straightaway covered in obstacles bigger than ourselves is the best we can do to survive.
Question: What do you do if your car crashes?
Answer: Just crash your car.
Jan 15, 2014
Jan 15, 2014 at 10:34 PM UTC
Sometimes we try to hide our fears
By trying to fake a smile
We take pleasure in shutting down people
From unnecessary facets of our lives.
Due to the unfriendly moments we are caged in,
We cannot even pretend to be there anymore
Neither can we keep faking that smile like we used to.
We fight and quarrel about every little thing
No, we **** ourselves in loneliness fighting against the love we have for them
Slowly, steadily, and surely our love for them grow to be hatred
But deep down within us, we stop loving ourselves thinking that we have succeeded in killing our love for them.
And then emptiness set in
Bitterness that was never anticipated starts to overwhelm us.
Everyday breaks and birth more regrets
Leaving you wishing that you have a time machine to turn back the hands of time
And that time machine is never found
And that time machine keep forging forward
The avoidable moment has been created
And like a healed wound, the scar never leaves your heart
And you keep waking up to a wet pillow every morning
And every laughter around you begin to sound like mourning
I should have done better
No, I should have faced the little things that matter
Maybe, I should have been more considerate and more flexible with my principles
I shouldn't have been too scared to be disappointed
I should have just listen a bit more and talk a bit less
I should have sacrifice my huge ego on the altar of happiness with self
I should have known that nothing last for ever but moments do.
Nov 25, 2018
Nov 25, 2018 at 7:42 AM UTC
I've always been the kid in the hall
Outside the office door of some metaphorical "principal"
Donning a dunce cap, back to the wall
Anticipation spikes in general
This time it's special
When waiting for the next hypothetical, often hypocritical, shoe to fall I make it a double
Dribble and drop the ball
Taking on the challenge of life was a bad call
The order's too tall, don't try it y'all
What I've been given to work with is abysmal
Can't rely on it being factual at all
A criminally out of date owners manual
A For Dummies series appealing to a low level criminal
Vaguely creating, and/or aiding, this failure ritual
Oh the unmitigated gall
Scheduling my burial service to take place before the funeral
Fuucking brutal
I hate it and it seems the feelings mutual
The line stepping is habitual
The backward motion is perpetual
Not sure any of this is avoidable
But, what do I know...
...everything and nothing is impossibly possible
©2023
Dec 20, 2023
Dec 20, 2023 at 3:00 PM UTC
heart is cold but hands are warm
you take up the broken space
the closer i get
the father it seems
wasting feelings on wasted dreams
i try I try
but all in vain
it's avoidable
all this pain
I give up
but I find hope
and give up again
smile's warm, eyes filled with tears
and I just wasted all these years
concerning all my mind with you
there's nothing child
there's nothing child
don't sympathize
don't patronize
your insignificance
your cliche emo ballads
there's nothing child
there's nothing child
Jul 21, 2013
Jul 21, 2013 at 3:13 AM UTC
Entry ~
*By the pit of a black hole. That's how it'll happen. By the flick of a lighter, and a burnt up spoon tucked away in the corner. A half *** attempt to be discreet. It'll sit there. Staring at you, haunting you, taunting your very existence. By the death of a friend you called your family. A stupid, avoidable death at the hand of ***** needle. That's how it'll happen. You'll look up one day, at the bottom of a hole you can't remember falling into. You'll climb, and climb, clawing your way to the top. Desperately slipping back down every time you make headway. It's a hopelessly dark place. It's the kind of place that stays with you forever. Even if you're lucky enough to claw your way out for good. It's the kind of place that leaves you void of love. It's a place for broken down souls. For desperate addicts turning tricks just to get their fix. You'll find yourself there, alone. Cold. You'll find yourself wishing it all back. Wishing you never took that one little hit, never sniffed that innocent little line. You'll hate yourself for thinking just this one time, because you knew it was a lie the second it crossed your mind. You just didn't want to believe it. It was a choice. Falling to the bottom of this hole. You made it the second you chose to say yes that very first time. It was the moment you sold your soul to the devil. A signature scribbled half heartedly on a piece of charred up tinfoil. It was a choice, and you knew you were making it. It's the worst part about being this kind of addict. You know you'll die eventually. Just like that friend you called your family, but nothing is enough to make you stop. The opiates leave you hollow. A shell of a person that used to love. You'll find yourself so empty. You don't care about your family, or those friends still around that don't **** with what you're doing. You can remember a time when you were so close to them. So different. Still an addict, but just circling the rim of that hole you're in now. You weren't addicted to those drugs, but you were on your way. It was those friends that kept you in the light. That kept you from falling into those harder drugs. They were a lifeline. A silver string hanging from the stars. You held on for so long. Every time you looked down you got so scared. It was a long way to the bottom, but you had scissors in your hand the whole time you were hanging on. At a certain point, you got weak, and cut that silver cord. You fell so far down, and at the bottom of that hole, sitting in the corner to comfort you, a burnt up soon and a white bic lighter. You traded in your lifeline. It was no longer your friends that could bring you back to the light. It was a bag of tar, and a silver spoon. It was a choice, and when the day comes when you say you're getting clean, you'll reach for the hands that used to be there. Out spread, patiently hanging there waiting for you to grab them, and they won't be there*.
Apr 15, 2017
Apr 15, 2017 at 1:47 AM UTC
This act
Just keeps
Wearing me out
Like I’m an evening
Dress and
Each day is a
Different dinner
So I guess I’ll
Keep watching
My patience
Grow thinner
Along with your
Waist.
It’s a short walk,
But still I dread
The trek
Each time
I make it
I expect
I’ll keep following
These same tracks
Until my feet
Wear away
And the tips
Of my tibias
Are concrete
Splinters,
But I don’t mind
Finding out
How many winters
This doubt can last,
It’s all a game,
Just catch and pass
You’re thrown
A bone
Or driven past
As you wave your thumb
Under the overpass
Trying to get home
For the birth of your child
At Woman and Infants
But RIPTA has ******
Service, so you might
Miss it,
But that’s ok,
We all miss things
We never had
And we all wish
To never be sad
But the reality is
Reality’s a fad,
A passing craze
Of the human brain
That hasn’t evolved
To see past the rain
And realize that it
Isn’t falling
Every time we get wet,
The future is calling
But we will always forget
To pick up the phone,
Cuz we’d rather forfeit
Nirvana to sit alone
Playing with an app
That makes a cartoon cat
Play the trombone,
Technology can lead us
Out of the realm of the blind
If only we could find
A way to slow
Our swift decline
Into the self assigned
Ceasing
Of
Creativity
And
Assanine
Overabundance
Of avoidable
Stupidity.
Iphone 4s.
Cop that ****
Nov 24, 2011
Nov 24, 2011 at 11:55 AM UTC
Alone simmering rejected by the system
made to live without supervision.
Changes made to save the money
suppoesed to be on medical guidance.
Though not taken for over a week
somebody's life will soon be bleak.
Roaming the streets bored and confused
lack of medication beginning to tell.
In his pocket a knife he liked so much
no medical staff had made a visit.
Agitation growing he walked in a daze
a girl talking turned him out of phase.
Nobody knew what was about to happen
this young man charged knife in hand.
Slashuing and thrusting people scattered
disbelief screams and cries of pain.
Seconds passed the man overpowered
on the pavement the policeman towered.
Amazing seriously hurt but alive the victims
rushed urgently to the local hospital.
The man hancuffed taken into custody
even now he was fighting so petrified
scared and lacking his medical control
the failing system had taken its toll.
How many more are there with no support
and another avoidable tragedy to report?
The Foureyed Poet.
Jan 9, 2011
Jan 9, 2011 at 2:03 AM UTC
If I thought these dreams
Of things
Unattainable
Were things meant
To glide easy
And tread upon
The arcs
Where
All the clouds
And doubts
Of every
Enigmatic
Tragic
Thing
Stopped
There'd be thought
Persuaded
Lost
Leather men
Thoughts
Of some avoidable
And some
Unexplainable
All of them trickle
With smiles
Growing deeply
Into space
That is submission
Dismissing
Nothing
Sleeping and dreaming
On my
Hard wood floor
Anywhere
Just to be
Close
To something
Grow
Into nothing
The break
Of snapping lead
The twists
And winding sockets
In all
The empty pockets
I've wanted
Masquerading
Patterns
Entertaining
Anything
I'd take anything
For a real night
Maybe,
A truth fight
That emerald ice
Where I create
Some illusion
When all things
Fade
No longer missing
The attainable
But creating
Elusive paths
Where I am
No longer trapped
Jun 1, 2013
Jun 1, 2013 at 9:01 PM UTC
It’s the earliest light of today
and the man is walking back from the mail box
his belly round, his posture bad,
carrying the mail in one hand.
Each time his outline is distorted
I notice another imprint of my lips
flawlessly preserved against the glass;
the (un)avoidable reminder of You.
By late evening I’ve noticed three white cars
the windows tinted like shields
against my false-hope stares,
but I know they’re just doppelgangers
turning the corner and driving away.
At midnight I see the fireflies sprinkle my yard,
the streetlights finally put to work;
as the moon glazes my window
with that softly knowing glow.
So I bow to her,
the glass cool against my head
(like the kiss of a never-ending fever)
as I whisper my prayers to the windowpane
hoping the closer I am to God
the faster something will happen.
But by morning, only the man will walk by
his mail in the same hand;
defeated, unchanging, and almost surreal
as I sit by my window
waiting for an answer.
Oct 10, 2012
Oct 10, 2012 at 5:06 PM UTC
A man walks home from his job
Part-time at two different places
To feed his child and give shelter
With his child's mother in place
This man would live life daily as
Best as he could like any other
Marijuana smoke helps dull pain
And heartache from another
Job and opportunity lost, cause
Of simple mistakes avoidable
Had he been more responsible
As the day draws to a close
Celebrations begin for a year
A year of renewal and promises
To improve, to provide, to guide
In his eyes he sees the fiery day
Give in to an unforgiving night
Fearful of taking an innocent life or
Having his life taken in an instant
He put faith in a train to plot
A direct course for the party
Returning home in the morning
To his little daughter and lover
Perhaps too much fun was had
A little much drink in plastic cup
Fights broke out in the live night
Of which friends of him were apart
Involving him in old hood beef
Fists met flesh but not bullet
For skin hadn't been torn by metal
Leaving human crimson along
The roadside beltway or floor
This was a rivalry among men
Whom lived without abandon
And strived for a daily dime
Men of the law would intervene
As is requisite of such actions
But reactions are destructive
Conducive to leaving lines
And plenty body bag designs
All aligned with ***** tiles
The tile that his stomach lies
As the kneecaps dig into him
Of a grown man with a life, wife,
And child in the womb of her
Similar to the man beneath him
But he reaches towards his belt
As his brother struggles below
Black like the early morning
Consuming the two of them
The fruits are veiled in this station
Fruits of deep seeded hate and
Inaction in the face of atrocities:
Glaring and gazing steadily
The shot rang out...
One. Light. Shines.
As. The. Bullet. Flies.
And. Burns. Flesh.
YOU SHOT ME!
... Echoes in the distance
Internal organs are dying
Breathes are more labored
His daughter and lover
Would find 7 hours later
That they would be left
In the distance that took him
An imperfect man slain
In an imperfect world.
Apr 2, 2014
Apr 2, 2014 at 10:57 PM UTC
i'm going to die
that part is inevitable
you aren't going to miss me
i wish that part was avoidable
but chances are
when i gasp for one last breath
you'll be somewhere laughing
while my spirit releases into the air
like one of those balloons that kids only love for 5 minutes
May 15, 2019
May 15, 2019 at 9:38 PM UTC
I fell over the other day,
Silly and embarrassing really,
Also ****** painful and in truth?
Avoidable!
But it got me thinking because
I was pulling on a rope when it happened,
A rope that then gave way,
It doesn't matter how,
And as I fell
I grasped that natural fibre cord
Even harder as if it
Even then would save me
From the painful landing,
No breaking fall,
No twist or roll just falling
Holding a slack hempen line,
But we all do this in life,
We hold our dreams long past
The point where they
Even slightly may come true,
We grasp them ever tighter
Even as they slip through the fingers
Of our hearts
And lonely souls
Until we land as I did
In a heap - covered not in mud
But in the knowledge not sjust
That it is over (whatever "it" may be)
So much as that it never was
Nor in fact would ever be
Jan 25, 2024
Jan 25, 2024 at 6:17 PM UTC
Good God didn't like
media's portrayal
of godly affairs.
even the mix up
in gender embarrassed.
sending a rejoinder
by way of retribution
would be viewed
as barbaric at this times.
that will ensure
a media hullabaloo,
quite avoidable, it was decided.
so, a gentle curse
was finally promulgated,
news on godly affairs
immediately got distorted
to the side of God,
with out the notice
of eagle eyed editors.
to edit a long story short,
this "editor's curse"
spread to other
media departments as well.
special correspondents
were specially bend
to distort their stuff, at will.
diplomatic scribes
used their skill utmost to
pitch one country against the other.
by and by distortions became
an unwritten rule, nay
a birth right of media tribe,
who could be fiercer than a pack of wolves,
not only on a full moon night
but on' any moon day' too!
Now it can be told,
this is how distortion of news or views
according to the whim of some
came about.
"Oh! God"!
OOO
Dec 26, 2011
Dec 26, 2011 at 10:31 PM UTC