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Dead Rose One Feb 2015
"montana-says-yoga-pants-illegal" Look up on Yahoo

we got quite the stash,
under the illegal grass,
in our hidden home,
bring 'em out when
it's just the two of us,
looking to get exercised

o'course we have secret codes,
(yogurt slackers)
never call 'em by their real name
in public,
lest we get sent by drone
to the new
orange and black jail

when we be feeling
risky-frisky,
under our coats
we wear 'em semi-publicly,
but to blend in,
we only buy black,
seeing as we live
in new york seeity,
where we reside,
black be the only
legal color for approved
illegal street walking

never when we travel domestically
in case we get busted,
don't want to face
federal interstate charges
of inciting others to riot sensationally!

this land is not my land,
maybe it is yours,
but if you come alooking
for us, we got a cabin
in the deep words,
where we practice
dress code freedom,
no ties, shirts untucked,
navel (oranges) fully exposed,
button down shirts always  unbuttoned,
(my high school days
revolutionary first strike)
hoping to escape
the idiots we
place above us
to "govern"
Esz-Pe-Bea Jul 2014
Trophies for last place,
And a Holiday for every weekend.
A taste of this and that...
OF Italy and Ireland and Asia and Germany
and every township in the county,
and 3 collective Miles of
Portable Toilets,
Strategically Positioned
throughout each event.
cause there is going to be a Lot of ****...

Hooray for whatever we are celebrating this weekend.
Whichever one of the 30 different Woodstocks
Or week long Music Festivals
That exist only so
the Hippest of Hipsters
can congratulate each other
on how Indie they are.

Ya know, it's happy hour somewhere...
Why not party
All Day, Everyday?
Devalue the weekend
Like we have thanksgiving
And New Years.
A Five Kay For the Common Cold,
And We'll even give trophies for last place.
Cause we're all winners here.
and we're all hungry.
And What represents your heritage better than
Pizza or sauerkraut or General Tso's
And endless flowing barrels of refreshing, Ice cold, Domestically brewed and Nationally brand recognized Alcoholic Beverages?

IT's The Great Dumb Down, Charlie Brown!!!
A symptom of the Universe
If there ever was one.
Mass anesthesia to keep us all content
With our collective mediocrities,
our Forfeit Potential,
Our Day Job that doesn't pay very well,
But kind has benefits.
So we stay on.
In fear of nothing better.
It makes feel important.
Like Wheel of Fortune makes us feel smart.
(Wow, you can spell?!)...
Dwindling returns in a world of Beige and Pastels
And the Muted Grays of limestone concrete.
We Accept less and we Get less and we accept less and we Get less
And On And on and on,
till we hit that lowest common cultural denominator,
where your race is what food you eat,
And we all qualify for the special Olympics.
A selection from a series of poems written on the handrail of a bridge.  June 13th, 2012
Marshal Gebbie Oct 2009
Domestically the cat and dog
Are streets above the rest
But wild alligators
Have put this theory to the test.
Panting hippopotami
Run faster than a mule
And a camel humps his water
Through the desert like a fool.
Bandicoots are ugly,
Chipmonks pretty cute,
And the squirrel steals his nuts
And hides them in the ground as loot.
Tigers are voracious
But beautiful as sin,
They have  coats of cruel colours
With two burning eyes within.
Elephants spectacular,
Blue whales even more
But my favourite little goldfish
Really shows them all the door.



Marshalg
@theGate
Mangere Bridge
4th January 2009
J Mcinelly Feb 2021
Some people say love is the most extravagant feeling in the world

People in bad situations would probably disagree

People domestically abused, and everyone unconcerned

They really hope one day they can just be free

But can they?

No hope, no help, nobody to guide them out

The feelings of, anger, sorrow and, betray

Even when out of these situations there is still doubt

I hope the pain goes away, but that’s something I simply can’t control

You can't rule me like a ******* gaming console

You stole everything from me

My, laughter, love and smile

Things I won't have back for a long while
if you are in a bad situation, the domestic abuse hotline is  1-800-799-7233
4/30/17

A cheetah speckled woman
With long curly red hair
Invited me to a bean shaped cushion
In her studio apartment.
her keys jingled in the closing door
Sealing us, a hot red room.

"Love is creepy"
She says, sinking into
Her candy apple bean shaped cushion

I am a watcher.
When We met, She was in her natual habitat.
A coat tail of men,
I admired how oblivious they were
to being faceless goons.
watched her direct them
like an ***** desperate orchestra.
My back against a wall,
Smoking a cigarette.

Now, I'm in this studio apartment
Again, I am a ******.
She tells me stories
Of bad tinder dates
as I survey the strung up Christmas lights
Posters of Marilyn monroe.
Teenage quotes of aspiration.
"Be unapologeticly you"

She smiles at my ignorance to her body.
I am not ignorant by any means
Only respectful
I notice her smirk at me swing around
Leaning into shelves of pottery and art supplies.
flying around with a clipped wing.

"Will I be a poem?" She asks.
"You're right. Love is creepy."

I pull wine out of my bag and place it on the counter, put Chicken and vegetables in the fridge.
She turns on Netflix and asks
"whaddaya wanna watch?"
"bird documentaries"
i say,
an effort to incite her own decision.
domestically,
A bird documentary starts to play.
I gloss over a smirk at my failure
We share wine meditating to the sounds of
Bad Voiceovers and chirping

We are the card dealers of moments
hourglass columns
sand falling where art should be carved.
fractures of timelessness stacked like
Jenga blocks
each sip of wine a ritualistic dymensia
blackjack tables with no dealer
just a bartender

We watch an owl puke up mouse bones
"Owls are Creepy."
We agree.
witness to me, is indulgence
silk strings pull my heart towards exhibitionists
When she changes to A pink robe
Textured to compliment my heart strings
the singsong of birds chirping.
provides an exotic baseline for her sway.

I stare at her body.
"My love is creepy" I say
pressing thumbs to divets in her hips
I am slave on her shadows
My hands trace contours
follow my worship eyes
"I like the attention" she says

In the morning
drafty eyes part

whisper From swirling pink elephant dazes
smiling at me.
the soft moans of her night
the reason I started dealing cards.
an addiction to that moment.
the reason I turn the hourglass.
the wide green foggy eyes
Watching me stare back.
stretching like a cat
who plays with the bird
brings it to it's master as a gift
limp and submissive,
Perhaps she is the bird.
Sunken to the curves of the bed.
a limp beautiful body
the most honest and intentionless fracture
love is creepy.
I am a watcher
ask only that you exist.
Existing is equally as creepy.
we have fingers
thoughts
consequences.
So why not stare at a part you want to keep?
Why not write it down for others to fly?
so many beautiful things are never seen
Oppurtunity wasted for fear of being creepy
Fear of love.
fear of cats
Fear of birds
when I stare I capture
When I write, you stare
love is creepy.
we are creepy.
birds are creepy
be my creepy love bird.
peace dove
fly with me, if for a moment.
and stare down at everything while we can see it
I want to see everything with you
For now I see you in everything.
Photoshop you into my dreams
Imaginary
Love is for the birds anyway.
blushing prince Jun 2017
“Have you been to the Melrose café?
I heard they have the best lunch there”

“I always go downtown for coffee
helps you avoid the goons
and the smell of trash coming in through the door”

Francis St.
The neighborhood with the crooked spine streets, the intolerable hunchback it was in the armpit of Korea-town.
The snake stealth slither you acquired to get to the 7/11 down the street without your teeth being pulled out by a gun. In the 80’s the back wall of that convenience store was littered with
no-do gooders, the typical teenage gangster with ironic ****** white shirts and a mouthful of *****. An army with no motive.
Buzzards learning how to haunt instead of hunt.
In the afternoons it was speculated that they melted into the hot cement, an intimidating presence that smoked marijuana and made their cars jump.
With fear?
warmth?
happiness?
Who’s to say.
But times have changed. The hungry graffiti on the wall became the emblem of what had been, and what had survived. It was no longer us vs. them, it was me vs. you.
There’s a hostility that sinks into the earth and made the children more aggressive in playgrounds that endorsed healthy living; a melting *** reserved only for the diversely attacked and passive aggressive scrutinized bunch.
I lived on that street in the peach palm, salmon slapped building where I witnessed a domestically abused woman with a shattered nose smear her blood across the windowpane of the front door while I checked for the mail. Her hair was bleached and it hung dead on her scalp like sun rays that had gotten seasonal depression. Her face was a gauzy mess of a nosebleed. I felt for that woman the same way I felt for the slugs that people threw salt at. A sadistic addiction for soft things; There were bruises where there shouldn’t have been and I felt like the imperfections on the wall looking but unable to be seen. And I wondered if she could see me. She crouched on the corner of the steps and waited. I didn’t know what for. I could hear sirens, I could hear footprints of her abuser coming closer and picking her up like a rag doll. Opening the door and disappearing into the night with the sound of high heels slowly going mute. I stayed there until the blood dried. The next day the stain was gone and I wondered about all the other blemishes around the building and if they had the same disgust to them. Were the discolorations on the carpet of the hallways just violent memories?
I could smell the poverty inside that apartment. It clung to me like it held on to anyone.
I was guilty of it creeping into the beds of my nails while I tried in futility to wash it off.
Despite all the books I read, all the times I refused to step out of my room in fear of experiencing too much I was not saved from observing a lot of things. There was a cathedral church a couple blocks away that you could see outside the living room window and when the sun set. It almost felt like the presence of god looming just beyond, always assuring me that yes, I had not been abandoned but it wasn’t abandonment I worried about but about becoming what was inevitably seeping into the tap water, into the people with the olive skin that can’t unlatch their own cages.
Of becoming the shadow of a civilization that revels in the darkness.
I wanted to be a pageant queen on television with the pink lipstick instead of a statistic on the news of most likely dropping out of school and hiding in the crevice of welfare.
I wanted the palm trees without the choke-hold. I wanted the cool California weather without the open fires on July 4th, the firework setting flames to nearby homes telling me that this was the hell that came with freedom. The American dream was served in the oven and why won’t you accommodate to these standards you ask me and I don’t know how to reply.
While other kids played in their backyards and learned how to ride bikes, I learned how to survive, how to walk the streets without being murdered. These are good skills that transfer into college resumes.
So the roots of trees would come out of the ground like fists and demand reparations, they would sneak into the pavement and break car windows with the intention of stealing radios that they sold for a good penny. They carried knives and cackled at the neighborhood watch because all eyes were on them and yet nothing changed but I want to change, I want to change you chant.
Nothing will be the same since I lived in Francis st.
Named after the saint with the smugness in his smile and the gluttony blistering out of his dress.
Will you comfort me in my hours of need oh gracious one?
will you drink these sins like Catholics drink Jesus' blood on Sunday morning?
Is this blasphemy a reason to instill death between the hours of 2 and 4:30?
I’m always chasing on my knees for the knowledge that is taken away from the destitute culture that the ghettos become. I wanted to go back to the mud and dig all those lives that crossed mine and tell them that they could run after their intelligence. Save them from the quicksand. That one doesn’t have to be shot at a party for being raised by criminals. That cars that drive slow at night don't always have bad intentions.

But if I do, I’m afraid I’ll sink


I’ll sink
Who does it hurt?
Domestically,
North Dakota, the worst,
But New Mexico also,
Just to bring it home to me,
Here on the high mesa
That is Northern New Mexico,
At one time The Northern Viceroy,
Empire Americana,
His Majesty Philip I,
King of Spain’s
Duke of Earl Moment--
Felipe’s 16th Century
That was Europe.
But I digress.

Dropping oil prices have to,
Must impact the Arab Oil-
Producing World in a most
Un-delightful way.
Perhaps it’s time to
Put the screws to our
Islamic brethren?
The Powers that be—
Our pals at the World Economic Forum,
The Nabobs of WEF,
Getting together again at Davos or
Some other insanely affluent playground,
This time deciding
These barbaric decapitations
Have gone quite far enough.
Samm Marie Aug 2016
After all the rage is run dry
And the rockets are set aside
The girl's not coming home
She ran water back and forth
'Cross the great lands on battlefield
She's seen horrors
That put grown men to sleep
She's nursed wounds that endlessly seep
But after the war out here
The girl's not coming home
She's not stopping or slowing
She's going to make a break for it
Because no amount of hellfire
Compares to what goes on
Behind domestically closed doors
The girl's not coming home
She's no valuables worth dropping in for
Because as soon as she enters
The threshold of the front door
It's another go round of fate worse death
And ****** all because
The girl's not coming home
She's learned from that mistake
Sometimes the one you marry
Isn't the one you loved all those years ago
Before **** went south and he backhanded your mouth
When the bottle made him rough
And you don't wanna play
Darling
The girl's not coming home
One time too many 'round that track
Lucky she has no kids
She'd leave them just the same
It ain't no way to live
In the twenty-firsf century
So everyone
The girl's not coming home
Priyam May 2018
I don't know how I got this bad
A depressed mother
A chauvinist dad

I want to run away and start a new life
To be someone's soulmate
To be someone's wife

I cannot cross my dad
He raises his hand
Going against him is domestically banned

And all this while I stand broken
An emotional mess and not well-spoken
But I'm told I victimize-
Myself, and then I'm criticized

So be my guest and judge me mate
But help me out before it's too late
I am looking for happiness and that is all
I would let love be my biggest fall
Lee Jan 2018
Hi, I'm a strong believer the media is important.
But I cannot associate myself with the news that it's reportin'.
Domestically, we see one side, not enough is imported.
And if I speak out, there's a fear I get deported,

but I'm living far away from where I was born.
It's too hard at this time to really call that place my home.
Other nations are more accepting and they're half as diverse.
I can't help but think that the roles should be reversed.
Not mine, but some peoples ancestors traveled across the sea
Searching for a new life to rid themselves of heresy.
Now they won't let you board a plane if you've got hairy cheeks,
Or a wrap on your head. They'll give up your seat.

I didn't create the problem. I'm still in my teens.
What went wrong in the past that infected us with greed.
I find it hard to believe that there was just a 'bad seed'.
I'm made by what I feel, what I hear, and what I see.

Now it's my job, and the rest of my generation's,
to sniff out the problems. Find where people were mistaken.
Some issues may be right in front of our nose.
Sometimes we don't realize how deep this stuff goes.
We often don't understand how the darkness grows.
As much as we study, no one really knows.

As a young person, I'm still stuck writing poetry
because no one who matters would listen to my prose.
I was born in America, then I moved to Brazil, now I'm in Germany.
Classy J Dec 2018
Why is that people only care about **** culture, when it actually happens to their daughters, to their sisters, to their brothers, to their mothers, fathers or even their grandfathers and grandmothers?
Why do we ignore when others have been ***** or domestically abused?
Or why do we change the channel when it’s discussed on the news?
We do have hold these covert rules and hush any fools that try to break these rules?
Why can’t we give our children the tools to better watch out or deal with these ghouls?
Why is it an inappropriate topic to discuss in schools.
They say not to make a mountain out of mole hills?
‘So, just pretend it didn’t happen and just stomach it along with some pills.’
Just what the doctor prescribed, yet no matter how many pills we take we feel dead inside.
For we can’t hide from this monster, maybe that’s why a lot choose suicide.
It’s not just a phase or a mental illness yet that’s how we choose to cut the pie.
Yet if we saw beyond the surface, maybe we would see other reasons why?
Why this happens.
Why it’s important and should no longer be ignored.
Why it continues.
Why it’s more complex than we think and the many factors that lead to this.
And lastly why we need to love and support those through it.
kain Feb 2023
Your soft lips
A wet caress
Tinged with sweet mint and cigarettes
And something faintly spiced
The softness of your hands on my hips
Your stomach and chest pressed against mine
Breathing into each other
Your heartbeat the only sound I can hear
Domestically in love
TR3F1LD 7d
𝗛𝗢𝗪 𝗖𝗔𝗡 𝗔𝗨𝗧𝗛𝗢𝗥𝗜𝗧𝗔𝗥𝗜𝗔𝗡 𝗥𝗘𝗚𝗜𝗠𝗘𝗦 𝗕𝗘 𝗢𝗣𝗣𝗢𝗦𝗘𝗗 in countries with neither significant oppositional forces capable of organizing mass protests nor oppositional combative forces? Intervention from the outside. But how exactly, given that a direct deployment of armed forces would be regarded as an invasion, provoke a full-scale military conflict, & undermine an attacking state's reputation both domestically & internationally? 𝗔 𝗖𝗢𝗟𝗗 𝗪𝗔𝗥 𝗢𝗡 𝗔𝗨𝗧𝗢𝗖𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗬 𝗕𝗬 𝗠𝗘𝗔𝗡𝗦 𝗢𝗙 𝗕𝗟𝗔𝗖𝗞 𝗢𝗣𝗦. A special international agency/department could be organized (like **** mafia), which job would be recruiting agents for covert field ops in countries with authoritarian regimes & preparing them for such ops, preparing & coordinating such ops. Such agencies exist, & such activity is known, as it's been mentioned above, as "black ops". Such an agency would consist of: an intelligence team gathering intel on targets & coordinating field ops; recruiters recruiting former or current commandoes & field agents of diverse intelligence/security agencies; experts in "unaliving", armed & hand-to-hand combat, & tactics, checking candidates being recruited in terms of physical fitness, "unaliving" & combat capability, & effectiveness in field ops, &, in case of any shortage, training them to the level of a notional Robert McCall. Whereafter recruited agents would be "sent on vacation" to authoritarian countries for "lessening negative influence of figures composing local authoritarian regimes by unfriendly means" (if you know what I mean). A couple of corpses of publicly known state officials or state-linked figures found would have caused a stir in the media, thus having sowed panic among other agents of a respective authoritarian regime. Whereafter, utilizing an IP-spoofing tool & a fake e-mail address, anonymous demands for political prisoners to be released & for key or most-contributing-to-injustice state officials from each of the 3 branches of power to be resigned could be sent to the administration of a respective dic-tator. In case of incompliance, this "unfriendly campaign" towards agents of a respective authoritarian regime would continue. Yes, this is evil, but a necessary/lesser one.

Now, some clarification on some pertinent points of the aforementioned initiative.
- 𝗪𝗛𝗜𝗖𝗛 𝗔𝗚𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗦 𝗢𝗙 𝗔𝗨𝗧𝗛𝗢𝗥𝗜𝗧𝗔𝗥𝗜𝗔𝗡 𝗥𝗘𝗚𝗜𝗠𝗘𝗦 𝗔𝗥𝗘 𝗝𝗨𝗦𝗧𝗜𝗙𝗜𝗘𝗗 𝗧𝗢 𝗕𝗘 "𝗗𝗘𝗔𝗟𝗧 𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗛 𝗕𝗬 𝗨𝗡𝗙𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗡𝗗𝗟𝗬 𝗠𝗘𝗔𝗡𝗦" (besides, of course, 𝗔𝗨𝗧𝗛𝗢𝗥𝗜𝗧𝗔𝗥𝗜𝗔𝗡 𝗦𝗖𝗨𝗠𝗕𝗔𝗚𝗦 𝗕𝗘𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗦 (more like d#ckheads) 𝗢𝗙 𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗜𝗥 𝗖𝗢𝗥𝗥𝗨𝗣𝗧 𝗥𝗘𝗚𝗜𝗠𝗘𝗦)?
- 𝗧𝗛𝗢𝗦𝗘 𝗢𝗙 𝗟𝗔𝗪 𝗘𝗡𝗙𝗢𝗥𝗖𝗘𝗠𝗘𝗡𝗧, 𝗦𝗘𝗖𝗨𝗥𝗜𝗧𝗬, & 𝗠𝗜𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗔𝗥𝗬 𝗔𝗚𝗘𝗡𝗖𝗜𝗘𝗦, 𝗕𝗘𝗜𝗡𝗚/𝗕𝗘𝗘𝗡: 𝗥𝗘𝗦𝗣𝗢𝗡𝗦𝗜𝗕𝗟𝗘 𝗙𝗢𝗥 𝗢𝗥 𝗘𝗡𝗚𝗔𝗚𝗘𝗗 𝗜𝗡 𝗘𝗟𝗜𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡 𝗔𝗧𝗧𝗘𝗠𝗣𝗧𝗦 𝗧𝗔𝗥𝗚𝗘𝗧𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗖𝗥𝗜𝗧𝗜𝗖𝗦 𝗢𝗙 𝗔 𝗥𝗘𝗦𝗣𝗘𝗖𝗧𝗜𝗩𝗘 𝗔𝗨𝗧𝗛𝗢𝗥𝗜𝗧𝗔𝗥𝗜𝗔𝗡 𝗥𝗘𝗚𝗜𝗠𝗘 &/𝗢𝗥 𝗠𝗔𝗞𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗢𝗙 𝗣𝗢𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗜𝗖𝗔𝗟𝗟𝗬 𝗠𝗢𝗧𝗜𝗩𝗔𝗧𝗘𝗗 𝗖𝗥𝗜𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗔𝗟 𝗖𝗔𝗦𝗘𝗦 𝗔𝗚𝗔𝗜𝗡𝗦𝗧 𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗠; 𝗥𝗘𝗦𝗣𝗢𝗡𝗦𝗜𝗣𝗟𝗘 𝗙𝗢𝗥 𝗢𝗥 𝗡𝗢𝗧𝗜𝗖𝗘𝗗 𝗘𝗜𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗥 𝗜𝗡 𝗖𝗔𝗥𝗥𝗬𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗢𝗨𝗧 𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗧𝗨𝗥𝗘𝗦 𝗢𝗥 𝗜𝗡 𝗨𝗧𝗜𝗟𝗜𝗭𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗣𝗛𝗬𝗦𝗜𝗖𝗔𝗟 𝗙𝗢𝗥𝗖𝗘 𝗔𝗚𝗔𝗜𝗡𝗦𝗧 𝗣𝗘𝗔𝗖𝗘𝗙𝗨𝗟 𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗧𝗜𝗖𝗜𝗣𝗔𝗡𝗧𝗦 𝗜𝗡 𝗣𝗥𝗢𝗧𝗘𝗦𝗧𝗦; 𝗖𝗢𝗠𝗠𝗔𝗡𝗗𝗘𝗥𝗦 𝗢𝗙 𝗔 𝗥𝗘𝗦𝗣𝗘𝗖𝗧𝗜𝗩𝗘 𝗔𝗨𝗧𝗛𝗢𝗥𝗜𝗧𝗔𝗥𝗜𝗔𝗡 𝗥𝗘𝗚𝗜𝗠𝗘'𝗦 𝗔𝗥𝗠𝗘𝗗 𝗙𝗢𝗥𝗖𝗘𝗦 𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗧𝗜𝗖𝗜𝗣𝗔𝗧𝗘𝗗 𝗜𝗡 𝗔𝗡 𝗨𝗡𝗝𝗨𝗦𝗧𝗜𝗙𝗜𝗘𝗗 𝗠𝗜𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗔𝗥𝗬 𝗢𝗙𝗙𝗘𝗡𝗦𝗘 𝗔𝗚𝗔𝗜𝗡𝗦𝗧 𝗔 𝗡𝗘𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗕𝗢𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗧𝗘 𝗢𝗥 𝗜𝗡 𝗔 𝗠𝗜𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗔𝗥𝗬 𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗙𝗟𝗜𝗖𝗧 𝗔𝗕𝗥𝗢𝗔𝗗 𝗢𝗡 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗦𝗜𝗗𝗘 𝗢𝗙 𝗔𝗥𝗠𝗘𝗗 𝗙𝗢𝗥𝗖𝗘𝗦 𝗢𝗙 𝗔𝗡𝗢𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗥 𝗔𝗨𝗧𝗛𝗢𝗥𝗜𝗧𝗔𝗥𝗜𝗔𝗡 𝗥𝗘𝗚𝗜𝗠𝗘. 𝗝𝗨𝗗𝗚𝗘𝗦 𝗜𝗦𝗦𝗨𝗘𝗗 𝗚𝗨𝗜𝗟𝗧𝗬 𝗩𝗘𝗥𝗗𝗜𝗖𝗧𝗦 𝗜𝗡 𝗣𝗢𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗜𝗖𝗔𝗟𝗟𝗬 𝗠𝗢𝗧𝗜𝗩𝗔𝗧𝗘𝗗 𝗖𝗥𝗜𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗔𝗟 𝗖𝗔𝗦𝗘𝗦, 𝗔𝗦 𝗪𝗘𝗟𝗟 𝗔𝗦 𝗢𝗡𝗘𝗦 𝗧𝗛𝗔𝗧 𝗗𝗜𝗗𝗡'𝗧 𝗥𝗘𝗣𝗘𝗔𝗟 𝗨𝗡𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗦𝗧𝗜𝗧𝗨𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡𝗔𝗟 𝗟𝗔𝗪𝗦. 𝗦𝗘𝗡𝗔𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗦 (or whatever the hell else they are called in other parts of the world) 𝗔𝗟𝗟𝗢𝗪𝗘𝗗 𝗔𝗡 𝗨𝗡𝗝𝗨𝗦𝗧𝗜𝗙𝗜𝗘𝗗 𝗗𝗘𝗣𝗟𝗢𝗬𝗠𝗘𝗡𝗧 𝗢𝗙 𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗧𝗘 𝗔𝗥𝗠𝗘𝗗 𝗙𝗢𝗥𝗖𝗘𝗦 𝗧𝗢 𝗔 𝗡𝗘𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗕𝗢𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗧𝗘, 𝗧𝗛𝗨𝗦 𝗜𝗡𝗜𝗧𝗜𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗔𝗡 𝗜𝗡𝗩𝗔𝗦𝗜𝗢𝗡 𝗢𝗙 𝗔 𝗥𝗘𝗦𝗣𝗘𝗖𝗧𝗜𝗩𝗘 𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗧𝗘. 𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗥𝗘𝗣𝗥𝗘𝗡𝗘𝗨𝗥𝗦 𝗙𝗥𝗢𝗠 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗜𝗡𝗡𝗘𝗥 𝗖𝗜𝗥𝗖𝗟𝗘 𝗢𝗙 𝗔 𝗥𝗘𝗦𝗣𝗘𝗖𝗧𝗜𝗩𝗘 𝗗𝗜𝗖𝗧𝗔𝗧𝗢𝗥. 𝗧𝗩 𝗣𝗥𝗢𝗣𝗔𝗚𝗔𝗡𝗗𝗜𝗦𝗧𝗦 𝗢𝗣𝗘𝗡𝗟𝗬 𝗦𝗨𝗣𝗣𝗢𝗥𝗧𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗔 𝗥𝗘𝗦𝗣𝗘𝗖𝗧𝗜𝗩𝗘 𝗔𝗨𝗧𝗛𝗢𝗥𝗜𝗧𝗔𝗥𝗜𝗔𝗡 𝗥𝗘𝗚𝗜𝗠𝗘 𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗬 𝗪𝗛𝗢𝗥𝗘𝗗 𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗠𝗦𝗘𝗟𝗩𝗘𝗦 𝗢𝗨𝗧 𝗧𝗢 & 𝗦𝗣𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗗𝗘𝗛𝗨𝗠𝗔𝗡𝗜𝗭𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗧𝗘𝗠𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗦. 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗔𝗟𝗦𝗢, 𝗜𝗙 𝗡𝗘𝗖𝗘𝗦𝗦𝗔𝗥𝗬, 𝗦𝗘𝗖𝗨𝗥𝗜𝗧𝗬 𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗙𝗙 𝗢𝗙 𝗖𝗢𝗥𝗥𝗨𝗣𝗧 𝗖𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗧𝗨𝗥𝗘𝗦 𝗕𝗘𝗟𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗧𝗢 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗔𝗙𝗢𝗥𝗘𝗠𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡𝗘𝗗 𝗚𝗥𝗢𝗨𝗣𝗦.
- How to bypass an airport security system with a piece(s) & lead?
- By means of having them transported in a metal-lined suitcase(s) with multiple internal compartments/layers & having them stashed closer to the bottom (in case an airport employee asks for a suitcase(s) to be opened to see its/their contents).
- Not sure whether it should be mentioned that such "unfriendly activities" should be conducted with as much discretion & professionalism as possible.
- In case any of recruited agents ends up dead or captured during their "vacation" & then imprisoned, their family/next of kin would be provided with a substantial financial compensation.
- Who could be involved… Nah, better this way: who should be dragged to funding such a cause?
- "Public-beloved" dollar billionaires, of course, including that sieg-heiling Musk *****.

In one part of the world, some 𝗣𝗘𝗢𝗣𝗟𝗘: 𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗥𝗩𝗘 𝗧𝗢 𝗗𝗘𝗔𝗧𝗛; 𝗙𝗔𝗟𝗟 𝗩𝗜𝗖𝗧𝗜𝗠𝗦 𝗧𝗢 𝗘𝗜𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗥 𝗠𝗜𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗔𝗥𝗬 𝗔𝗖𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡𝗦 𝗜𝗡𝗜𝗧𝗜𝗔𝗧𝗘𝗗 𝗕𝗬 𝗔𝗨𝗧𝗛𝗢𝗥𝗜𝗧𝗔𝗥𝗜𝗔𝗡 𝗤𝗨𝗔𝗦𝗜-𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗧𝗘𝗦 𝗢𝗥 𝗖𝗥𝗜𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗔𝗟 𝗔𝗖𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡𝗦 𝗢𝗙 𝗠𝗔𝗙𝗜𝗔𝗦; 𝗔𝗥𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗟𝗗 𝗜𝗡 𝗜𝗠𝗣𝗥𝗜𝗦𝗢𝗡𝗠𝗘𝗡𝗧 𝗙𝗢𝗥 𝗘𝗫𝗣𝗥𝗘𝗦𝗦𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗖𝗥𝗜𝗧𝗜𝗖𝗔𝗟 𝗦𝗢𝗖𝗜𝗢𝗣𝗢𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗜𝗖𝗔𝗟 𝗩𝗜𝗘𝗪𝗦 𝗢𝗥 𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗡 𝗚𝗘𝗧 𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗧𝗨𝗥𝗘𝗗 𝗗𝗨𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗜𝗧. Meanwhile in another part of the world, some 𝗦𝗘𝗟𝗙𝗜𝗦𝗛 𝗖𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗧𝗨𝗥𝗘𝗦 𝗘𝗡𝗗𝗢𝗪𝗘𝗗 𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗛 𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗦𝗢𝗡 (𝗕𝗨𝗧 𝗡𝗢𝗧 𝗧𝗢𝗢 𝗠𝗨𝗖𝗛): 𝗠𝗔𝗞𝗘 𝗠𝗘𝗠𝗘 𝗖𝗢𝗜𝗡𝗦, 𝗣𝗨𝗠𝗣-&-𝗗𝗨𝗠𝗣 𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗠 𝗢𝗥 𝗦𝗢𝗠𝗘 𝗦𝗧𝗢𝗖𝗞𝗦 𝗜𝗡 𝗢𝗥𝗗𝗘𝗥 𝗧𝗢 𝗚𝗘𝗧 𝗪𝗘𝗔𝗟𝗧𝗛𝗬 𝗜𝗡 𝗔 𝗠𝗔𝗧𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗢𝗙 𝗗𝗔𝗬𝗦/𝗪𝗘𝗘𝗞𝗦/𝗠𝗢𝗡𝗧𝗛𝗦; 𝗛𝗔𝗩𝗘 𝗙𝗨𝗡 𝗔𝗧 𝗟𝗔𝗩𝗜𝗦𝗛 𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗧𝗜𝗘𝗦 𝗢𝗥 𝗖𝗛𝗜𝗟𝗟 𝗟𝗬𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗜𝗡 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗟𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧 𝗜𝗡 𝗟𝗔𝗩𝗜𝗦𝗛 𝗦𝗨𝗥𝗥𝗢𝗨𝗡𝗗𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦; 𝗛𝗔𝗩𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗠𝗢𝗥𝗘 𝗢𝗥 𝗟𝗘𝗦𝗦 𝗦𝗜𝗚𝗡𝗜𝗙𝗜𝗖𝗔𝗡𝗧 𝗔𝗨𝗗𝗜𝗘𝗡𝗖𝗘𝗦 𝗢𝗙 𝗙𝗢𝗟𝗟𝗢𝗪𝗘𝗥𝗦 𝗢𝗡 𝗦𝗢𝗖𝗜𝗔𝗟 𝗠𝗘𝗗𝗜𝗔, 𝗣𝗨𝗕𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗛 𝗢𝗡 𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗠 𝗦𝗢𝗠𝗘𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗟𝗜𝗞𝗘 "𝗪𝗛𝗘𝗡 𝗜𝗧'𝗦 𝗕𝗘𝗘𝗡 𝗔 𝗙𝗘𝗪 𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗨𝗧𝗘𝗦 & 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗛𝗔𝗩𝗘𝗡'𝗧 𝗔𝗦𝗞𝗘𝗗 𝗙𝗢𝗥 𝗔 𝗕𝗜𝗟𝗟𝗜𝗢𝗡 𝗗𝗢𝗟𝗟𝗔𝗥𝗦 𝗜𝗡 𝗔𝗜𝗗" 𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗛 𝗔 𝗠𝗢𝗖𝗞𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗜𝗠𝗔𝗚𝗘 𝗢𝗙 𝗔 𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗗 𝗢𝗙 𝗔 𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗧𝗘 𝗦𝗨𝗕𝗝𝗘𝗖𝗧𝗘𝗗 𝗧𝗢 𝗔𝗡 𝗨𝗡𝗝𝗨𝗦𝗧𝗜𝗙𝗜𝗘𝗗 𝗜𝗡𝗩𝗔𝗦𝗜𝗢𝗡 𝗕𝗬 𝗔 𝗡𝗘𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗕𝗢𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗔𝗨𝗧𝗛𝗢𝗥𝗜𝗧𝗔𝗥𝗜𝗔𝗡 𝗤𝗨𝗔𝗦𝗜-𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗧𝗘, 𝗢𝗥 𝗦𝗢𝗠𝗘𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗟𝗜𝗞𝗘 "𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗪𝗢𝗥𝗟𝗗'𝗦 𝗖𝗢𝗢𝗟𝗘𝗦𝗧 𝗗𝗜𝗖𝗧𝗔𝗧𝗢𝗥" 𝗢𝗥 "𝗣𝗛𝗜𝗟𝗢𝗦𝗢𝗣𝗛𝗘𝗥 𝗞𝗜𝗡𝗚" 𝗔𝗦 𝗔 𝗦𝗘𝗟𝗙-𝗗𝗘𝗦𝗖𝗥𝗜𝗣𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡, 𝗧𝗔𝗞𝗘 & 𝗣𝗢𝗦𝗧 𝗣𝗛𝗢𝗧𝗢𝗦 𝗢𝗙 𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗠𝗦𝗘𝗟𝗩𝗘𝗦 𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗛 𝗛𝗔𝗟𝗙-𝗡𝗔𝗞𝗘𝗗 𝗕𝗢𝗗𝗜𝗘𝗦 𝗢𝗥 𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗛 𝗪𝗘𝗔𝗟𝗧𝗛-𝗜𝗡𝗗𝗜𝗖𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗔𝗧𝗧𝗥𝗜𝗕𝗨𝗧𝗘𝗦 𝗢𝗡 𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗠; 𝗥𝗘𝗖𝗢𝗥𝗗 𝗦𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦 𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗛 𝗕𝗢𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗙𝗨𝗟 𝗟𝗬𝗥𝗜𝗖𝗦 𝗚𝗟𝗢𝗥𝗜𝗙𝗬𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗦𝗨𝗠𝗘𝗥𝗜𝗦𝗠 & 𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗗𝗟𝗘𝗦𝗦 𝗦𝗘𝗟𝗙-𝗜𝗡𝗗𝗨𝗟𝗚𝗘𝗡𝗖𝗘 𝗢𝗥 𝗦𝗛𝗢𝗢𝗧 𝗟𝗔𝗩𝗜𝗦𝗛 & 𝗘𝗡𝗩𝗬-𝗣𝗥𝗢𝗩𝗢𝗞𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗖𝗟𝗜𝗣𝗦 𝗙𝗢𝗥 𝗦𝗨𝗖𝗛 𝗦𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦, instead of attracting attention of their audiences to 𝗜𝗡𝗝𝗨𝗦𝗧𝗜𝗖𝗘 𝗚𝗘𝗧𝗧𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗠𝗨𝗟𝗧𝗜𝗣𝗟𝗜𝗘𝗗 𝗗𝗔𝗜𝗟𝗬 (which, on the other hand, may subject lives of some of them to danger posed by certain agents of injustice, cases of which exist). This isn't a justification of terrorism, but one particular school shooter was right: 𝗛𝗨𝗠𝗔𝗡𝗞𝗜𝗡𝗗 𝗜𝗦 𝗥𝗢𝗧𝗧𝗘𝗡, 𝗥𝗢𝗧𝗧𝗘𝗡 𝗙𝗥𝗢𝗠 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗜𝗡𝗦𝗜𝗗𝗘. Not all of it, but a significant part, if not the majority. One may wonder: "What worthy deeds of his own does the criticizing commenter have to say about?". None. The commenter's way of thinking is such that doing something benevolent to victims of injustice (for which there are other, kinder & simpler-minded people) won't reduce the influence of agents of injustice, & therefore such deeds have no value in terms of 𝗦𝗜𝗚𝗡𝗜𝗙𝗜𝗖𝗔𝗡𝗧 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗡𝗚𝗘𝗦 𝗙𝗢𝗥 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗕𝗘𝗧𝗧𝗘𝗥, which 𝗖𝗔𝗡 𝗢𝗡𝗟𝗬 𝗕𝗘 𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗧𝗥𝗜𝗕𝗨𝗧𝗘𝗗 𝗧𝗢 𝗕𝗬 𝗗𝗜𝗥𝗘𝗖𝗧 𝗢𝗣𝗣𝗢𝗦𝗜𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡 𝗧𝗢 𝗔𝗚𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗦 𝗢𝗙 𝗜𝗡𝗝𝗨𝗦𝗧𝗜𝗖𝗘. But 𝗨𝗡𝗗𝗘𝗥 𝗔𝗨𝗧𝗛𝗢𝗥𝗜𝗧𝗔𝗥𝗜𝗔𝗡 𝗥𝗘𝗚𝗜𝗠𝗘𝗦 with their elites loyal to them, 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗢𝗡𝗟𝗬 𝗘𝗙𝗙𝗘𝗖𝗧𝗜𝗩𝗘 𝗪𝗔𝗬 𝗢𝗙 𝗢𝗣𝗣𝗢𝗦𝗜𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡 𝗜𝗦 𝗕𝗬 𝗠𝗘𝗔𝗡𝗦 𝗢𝗙 𝗙𝗢𝗥𝗖𝗘. Had the commenter access to "instruments of unaliving", expert skills in wielding diverse types of them & hand-to-hand combat, as well as more than fine fettle, he would already be doing something about injustice, instead of dumping his critical sociopolitical thoughts to the web.

𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗧𝗥𝗜𝗕𝗨𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗦 𝗧𝗢 𝗜𝗡𝗝𝗨𝗦𝗧𝗜𝗖𝗘 𝗠𝗨𝗦𝗧 𝗕𝗘 𝗘𝗟𝗜𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗔𝗧𝗘𝗗 𝗢𝗥 𝗦𝗨𝗕𝗝𝗘𝗖𝗧𝗘𝗗 𝗧𝗢 𝗠𝗜𝗦𝗙𝗢𝗥𝗧𝗨𝗡𝗔𝗧𝗘 𝗘𝗫𝗜𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗜𝗔𝗟 𝗖𝗜𝗥𝗖𝗨𝗠𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗘𝗦 𝗧𝗜𝗟𝗟 𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗬 𝗥𝗘𝗗𝗘𝗘𝗠 𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗜𝗥 𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗧𝗥𝗜𝗕𝗨𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡 𝗧𝗢 𝗜𝗡𝗝𝗨𝗦𝗧𝗜𝗖𝗘, 𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗡 𝗜𝗙 𝗜𝗧 𝗧𝗔𝗞𝗘𝗦 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗥𝗘𝗦𝗧 𝗢𝗙 𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗜𝗥 𝗟𝗜𝗩𝗘𝗦 𝗧𝗢 𝗗𝗢 𝗦𝗢.
«𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗢𝗡𝗟𝗬 𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗡𝗘𝗖𝗘𝗦𝗦𝗔𝗥𝗬 𝗙𝗢𝗥 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗧𝗥𝗜𝗨𝗠𝗣𝗛 𝗢𝗙 𝗘𝗩𝗜𝗟 𝗜𝗦 𝗙𝗢𝗥 𝗚𝗢𝗢𝗗 𝗠𝗘𝗡 𝗧𝗢 𝗗𝗢 𝗡𝗢𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗚»
«𝗪𝗛𝗘𝗡 𝗜𝗡𝗝𝗨𝗦𝗧𝗜𝗖𝗘 𝗕𝗘𝗖𝗢𝗠𝗘𝗦 𝗟𝗔𝗪, 𝗥𝗘𝗕𝗘𝗟𝗟𝗜𝗢𝗡 𝗕𝗘𝗖𝗢𝗠𝗘𝗦 𝗗𝗨𝗧𝗬»
«𝗘𝗩𝗜𝗟 𝗠𝗨𝗦𝗧 𝗕𝗘 𝗣𝗨𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗘𝗗»
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THE PREVIOUS SIMILAR PUBLICATIONS:
hellopoetry.com/poem/4946101
hellopoetry.com/poem/4847999
Keegan Travis Dec 2020
Ah, this is the taste of champions
Inhaling cigarette smoke
Over a thin, delicate film
Of mucus and blood

Grinning and paralysed
Lying on an unmade bed
Domestically set for two
Left for one, left cold and alone

The sting of coffee shudders and shakes
Brings me back, back here, back home
This place where I never really left
But I never really want to fully face

Mirrors have always shone in the darkness for me
As examples of what could have been, and now, my bleakness
Sway side to side, this opus and requiem
Wasted notes, wasted eulogy, wasted time
Stevie Nov 2020
Go ahead, scream this isn't poetry,
This is my sign, my view, the realiness,
Piece that every been written,
Go ahead, scream this isn't poetry,
That you're angry and offended,
Go ahead and scream colours and life matters,
That humanity is a race under God,
Go ahead and scream that your right and am wrong,
But look around, take a good look,
And you see that all below,
Is nothing but a disease,

Black Lives, No,
White Lives, No,
Blue Lives, No,
Asians, Korean Lives, Still No,
Purple, Yellow, Red Lives, No,
Animals Lives No,
Unborn and Children Lives, No,
Trans lives matter, No,
Gay lives matter, no.
Alien lives matter, No,
No Lives Matters at all,
Why do we need to divide life,
To make humans matter,
Women, men, children, animals, domestically battered,
Women, men, children suicidal and blood splattered,
Animals hunted for fun, still blood splattered,
Animals killed for food, human chain and food on platter,
Still yet, we are still taking each others, animals and children lives, screaming life matters,
Clearly, when the world gone crazy and nothing really matters.

Socia Media,
FaceBook, Twitter and YouTube,
NEWS,,,
BBC, Fox, CCN, Australian News,
Promoting hate and No lives Matters.
Fact checking truths and facts,
Banning those who is academically speaking the right acts,
Promoting false love, facts and peace, all upon on lies,
Reporting our mistakes and stories on how or when we die.
Creating cyber/online bullying, just look at the internet reaction,
To Johnny Depp and Amber Heard Domestic Abuse Case,
Justice for Johnny while Amber receives Death threats,
Forgetting that the same happened to Caroline Flack in a Domestic Violence case,
Caroline Commited Suicide via Distress of Media and Social media attacks,
The whole world found out and hashtagged "be kind" and stop online abuse and bullying, let talk about mental health.
But now that gone out of the window, be kind is not the statement,
Out of the window goes the let stop online abuse and bullying,
Hoping another celebrity suffers mentally and commits suicide,
If Amber stories turn to suicide,
Then you all have "Assisted Homicide" title.
Don't show remorse, don't write "R.I.P Amber Heard",
If you were part of the creation that lead to that.

This is not humanity,
This is ironic and a joke,
This is not a race,
Under God,
This is a race,
Under Evil, Luicifer,
Demanding change,
Not showing change,
Screaming be kind,
But showing Bullying signs,
This is not humanity,
This is a disease.
Michael Marchese Aug 2024
Haven’t yet missed
Any more opportunities
Just those eluding me
Never discovered
Developed immunities
Foreign to others
Whose ignorance
Shifted
From bedlam
To bliss
As domestically
Terrorists
Click the death wish

So I say again
I haven’t missed
Any chances
To take aim
And place blame
On bandits of bandwidth
Reframing the digital aging
King’s gambits
But can’t reprimand
Can’t command
We clean house
If they’re making us sick
At the click of a mouse

So I reaffirm I
Do not shy
From my duty
Engage civically
But at times
Rather rudely
When only I venture
To censor
The nemesis
Silicon-based
Artificial intelligence  
Clickbait and switch
The code
Ode to dystopian
Cyberpunk’s pulse
To make nervous
The system
And watch it convulse
Michael Marchese Nov 2024
Vultures and carrion
choirs conspired
I rose from the rubble
Ground zero
Admired
Domestically terrorized
Seven-year mind
In an instantly shattered
My people attacked
As I learned growing up
How much history stacked
On the odds
One by one
Like it’s fun
Reenact
Having seen how they crumbled
So carelessly cracked
By the Fed
We entrust
All our currency
Backed
And I saw it all bolstered
By oil and greed
By the war profiteering
American dream
No more than words
On a page
Is the government
Yet we are
All
Disobeying it
Some of it
Some more than others
Like angry big brothers
Big boxes of documents
Never recover
What’s lost
Are the funds
You entrust
Will secure you
Empower
Sustain
In your outrage
Endure you
So long as your faith
Remains blind in devotion
To weathering storms
Of off-shoring erosion
To bettering forms
Of corruption
Construction
To meeting their quotas
Upscaling production
Like any adventures
And exploits
Abroad
Can’t admit
Execution
Was critically flawed
As domestically
Status quo silents  
Attest
To disquieting riots
And civil unrest

— The End —