"elitism" poems
Trade,Globalization,Terrorism and Corruption
What's the difference?
Each of us look at the world with open eyes yet with closed minds.
We see the structures of society right before us
yet we can do nothing to alter its existence
Marxism, Liberalism, Elitism, lenses that see a point but not the whole picture
The age of politics is over, the market comes to be our master
I know some might argue over me in this, but hear me out still.
The world we live in is like a senseless commodity
Our natural resources is taken every day
To create excess cars, excess food, excess everything
The surplus is too much that its overflowing with decay
Another thing is war,
A place where precious lives are seen to be walking bags of meat.
The preach for violence that could've created peace, and for what ?
To protect the free world? where the rich sit in high places
and some of us pushed down to supply their greed
Globalization is a license, a license to what?
A license to **** a license to invade other states
without the use of soldiers to force out our will
We become docile as people in their wake and companies are laughing as we speak.
These corrupt figures ,conflict is their business, opportunity and peace is their excuse.
Human integration is what they say and offer, for a better society they say.
But look at us now, where is the promise of a future in the world today?
The world terrorizes me, terrorizes the people who are willing to see
and if I am in terror, what makes the system different from the loud bombs we hear when they explode.
They only made ways to make the killings silent and the experience more traumatic.
I'm sorry if globalization is a bad thing for me, but living in our country, globalization harms before it can give
it takes before we can receive.
Apr 28, 2018
Apr 28, 2018 at 12:20 PM UTC
I find myself sidewalking everything
So Silverstein was lucky to know where it ends
Will I ever be privileged to discover such a thing?
Too many trivial needs distract from its pursuit
But how am I to know?
When it's time, I only cared for my toys
The way the sheeple only care for their handouts
Do tell; if the Pentagon lays off 800,000 people
Will we know they're telling the truth about unemployment
When their words flow between mouthfuls
Of stolen fruit and gold
At the table of the elite
So tell me, who is John Galt?
I sit at a table with a mind that knows how to think for himself
And can't help but think this is the purest form of elitism:
Until at last the time has come
For the imminent end of all serfdom
Brought by the brawn of the brainy
How are we to keep our heads when the others ***** us over
Take our heads clean off to see the contents
Only the strongest can withstand the attempts to skew ideas
Upon who's minds the lying flies
Forced off by intellect
The simple last defender of God and liberty
Big Brother would have us not discuss such things
At times, I feel that we are the last in the world
So, tell me- if this paper is the last in the world, have we written something significant?
I've no doubt the world will see
The mistakes of society
Time then, will bring forth a new renaissance, with us as creators
And they, as the readers of some disconnected thoughts
Written at a time when the end of a page was a good stopping point for poetry, but not for the limit of government infringement on personal freedom.
Feb 26, 2013
Feb 26, 2013 at 12:38 AM UTC
The writer is
bound by the Oedipus
cauldron stewing can't relax
--all women are mine--
but this doesn't stop the bloating bubbles.
But the writer did not invent Wonderlandia
--no double-sided tape or wrong number or sloppy poetics.
Wonderlandia was born from the ***** of the stars
--our fathers,
and the void of space,
--our mother's womb.
the writer
was busy staring at the girls that walked by
ditch diggers for renovations on Euphoria.
The hippies are disappointed in this current Wonderlandia,
or they would be.
Their dreams had dirt in the mud,
they walked upon. Our Woodstock
is celebrity interviews,
reservations failing,
political satires--the last ring of change
sold at five cents a word. Period.
the writer
says it understands and writes:
"Sticks shaped from elitism
rare.
Usually a vibe too brittle,
breaking in battle.
The bass thundered robins.
The snare's firearm stabled the swift,
electrifying beat.
The brass was addiction
to the crowd's ears.
All before the elitism was born,
a symphony was constructed in the drug's head."
the writer
knows about D. A. Levy and his revolution,
we all felt that voice, so the writer replies:
"Did you hear about the John Lennon poser
waving his gun on TV?
While listening to the Beatles, you
sit and watch the vagabond cry.
He says, "Counter-culture is dead, entombed
in a metal casket.
We need a new flame. Those watching TV
get your hands out of the basket."
the writer
walks with grandma Alice
by lakes,
thrilling dementia
"Don't tell me what taurine
and caffeine can do to my heart.
I can have alligators in my rib meat
eating away at bone marrow.
High? That's your question?
Hi...I am a float
in a useless pond
bordered by malnourished trees.
By the love of hell you better not
fertilize those ****** trees
because if I die
the alligator of my ribs
will dine and take your ****
girlfriend straight to the vet.
I thank you for asking though."
the writer misses
the syrup in the tree completely
I am not your beatnik
or future idol--burn your 1970's classrooms away.
Mar 6, 2013
Mar 6, 2013 at 6:49 PM UTC
I am victim only to constant distractions,
restrictions, prescriptions, vicarious factors,
as various factions of elitism prescribe defeat
to the common man; the hard working talented
beaten upon by the self driven commerce land.
Businessmen, crooks, warlords and bankers;
victory purports itself the higher moral ground.
******* the world, lie on the crimson sand.
The brevity of riches in led laden ditches,
trenches v armistice; one man’s control over
cadets and lieutenants. Equality it seems
is general ignorance, propose roll reversal
and receive corporal punishment. Capital
interests will be met with bursaries, bail
out the banks and return to your knees,
put out your hands and beg for your feed.
If the top three percent own more wealth
than the lower half put together while
politicians claim to be fair-weather,
conclude that sincerities amiss, that
your representatives are on the pay roll
of profit driven lobbyists. Career crazed fat-cats
couldn’t care less if you're in tattered garments
or there’s a hole in your dress, their polished
boots carry them from vault to vault
while we fill another with oil-baron asphalt.
As social repression pushes populations
science progresses, enabling armed forces
to kettle us, cut us off and circle on horses.
Power-shifts across the globe become jaded
by investment with private militias and fascist
supremacists seizing resources from war
torn villages to fund their crude sourced
morality, migrants and refugee families
are vilified by ignorance forged in cynicism
caused by the inequality of education.
Here lie the symptoms of infinite regression,
hold mirror to gene-pool as it replicates
the same flawed equation, as populations
expire and conspire so does the problem.
Bombing a country without repercussions,
is as likely as a breaking the waters surface
without sending ripples to the adjacent atoms.
These are the dark ages of social stagnation.
Oct 22, 2014
Oct 22, 2014 at 11:00 AM UTC
My country does not believe in equality.
It buys excuses for elitism and misogyny.
It covers up its greed and its brutality
And makes up ugly labels for decency.
My country sings its songs about freedom
But often denies it to those who need some.
It celebrates our heritage with beer and ***
And marches to the beat of a fascist drum.
My country was founded by nice words
Some of the finest man has ever heard.
Then shows the intelligence of a cattle herd;
And the social conscience of rotted bean curd.
My country labors under some illusions
That contribute to a national delusion
That fame will ultimately cure all contusions
And eradicate the effects of collusion.
My country thinks pretty people are sacrosanct
So, they let the beautiful load up their piggy bank.
We see reverence for the most egregious crank,
And have many of our countrymen to thank.
My country isn’t very good at followup.
It adopted the behavior of an untrained pup.
As long as it has its favorite pablum to sup
It will drink any poison that’s in their cup.
My country is this way, has been for too long
And if you disagree with the words of my song
Write your own treatise to try to prove me wrong.
For now I will keep on banging this protest gong.
Apr 15, 2017
Apr 15, 2017 at 4:24 PM UTC
Tribute to my childhood hero
Joni Mitchell
The album covers beaten
The player old and worn
The needle barely tracking
From all the scratches borne
Upon the vinyl surfaces
Of albums that were stored
Unlocking wonderous worlds
Of music I adored
I would lie in cloistered darkness
To hear a voice so sweet
There I'd usher in the nighttime
To worship at her feet
Struck by earthy lyrics
But somewhat strange
Unearthly tunes
To trace with disconnected fingers
The most sensitive of wounds
How sad that good songs
Unsung heroes
Like "Morning Morgantown"
Wouldn't live forever
To "buy your dreams a dollar down"
Recall "Big Yellow Taxi"?
You can rest assured I do!
And "Ladies of the Canyon"
And her epic album "Blue"
Most folks recall a song
Entitled "Both Sides Now"
'Bout clouds and love and life
But they do not know
Her poetic expression
Unearthed deep jazzy riffs
Elitism. Hypocrisy.
And "Summer Lawns" that "Hissed"
At the pinnacle of greatness
Her album "Court and Spark"
Will always be a touchstone
For purity in art
A deeply troubled woman
At certain times in life
Loving truely... deeply
In the "Industry" meant strife
A versatile genius
Her lyrics resonate
Fot the very thing that scarred her
Also made her great
---
At times I'd sit and ponder
A self-inflicted crime
But I would postpone the act
To hear her one last time
Her songs touched me so deeply
Places only she could know
With her voice to guide me
I found a place to go
She became my inspiration
My metaphor. My muse.
Joni Mitchell told my heart
To write of its abuse
I aspire to higher standards
A perfection as it were
And should my work be recognized
I owe it all to her.
Though endlessly I search
For perfect sense of art
It's brought on by
INPERFECTION
But a kind and loving heart.
What I saw in her self portrait
Was a humble, gentle face
She was the greatest mentor
a human life could grace
SoulSurvivor
(C) 10/14/2014
Rewritten
(C) 7/17/2015
Jul 18, 2015
Jul 18, 2015 at 1:07 AM UTC
My living disposition leads me to assert that I am not dead!
Yet, my silence screams ancient transcriptions across geographical contour lines which are considered to be far removed from the metaphorical grid of contemporary societal norms, where the seductions of the vampyre and her haunting dynamics cast their eerie spells within this captivating fishbowl of galloping horses.
The Prince of Wallachia is able to explain.
Let us converse with The Count.
Whenever there is emphasis upon specific detail in this age of certain vanity, I find that, in 1456, I am truly bereft of valedictorian and flamenco odours, because this royal prince of acoustic arrangement has generated a harmonious expression which humbly corrects my intrapersonal assumptions across the mountainous regions of Transylvania.
Conflict resolution is therefore a mere figment of sociological and anthropological constructs, which fornicate with the façade of egocentrism and fabricates vain attempts to maintain social elitism within a blanket of darkness.
How do we find ourselves in the position of being so diametrically opposed to reality?
Dec 11, 2015
Dec 11, 2015 at 12:47 AM UTC
They were THOSE people.
those people with their rolled up button-down shirts and blue jeans,
who wore leather lace up shoes that were
too casual for dressy,
but too dressy for casual.
they were those people who referenced music that was
too obscure to be mainstream,
but too mainstream to be obscure.
They were alternative society
It was those peoples,
who thought themselves unlimited in their box of elitism.
They may have been the foam atop the espresso,
but they never could taste the drink.
Apr 16, 2015
Apr 16, 2015 at 7:22 PM UTC
why does it seem as if everyone has left me?
my hands quiver as i verbalize these thoughts
and the sweat from my palms dampens the page --
my vulnerability has become difficult to manage,
despite my mind's intent to remain good-willed
and my heart's discontent with the language misunderstood
friendship does not require ideological consistency,
and to believe otherwise is a detriment to the love
we are fortunate enough to experience in this life;
intellectual supremacy equates to the patronizing rhetoric
embedded within the elitism of the morally superior --
your grim clouds turn our progressivism dull
i will say what i need to retain a friend,
but the judgment within is a grudge untouched,
a ghastly bruise that never seems to mend --
you do not get to determine the language i speak,
the words i weep, or the healing i seek
when a bond so potent is forgotten so easily
to question my morality is to question my identity,
and those who know are the ones to see me grow
as i flourish from the bounds of these restrictions
and inch my way upright, stronger than before,
disallowing my words to be misconstrued,
a prohibition of the trauma i continue to elude
a Leo is loyal like the lioness of a pride,
gnawing at the flesh of the ones who betray --
grudges maintained in the chill of the winter,
a midnight breeze toppled an unchanged core --
it is not a star, this dim light retreating above,
merely the fading memory of our platonic love.
Oct 12, 2023
Oct 12, 2023 at 2:12 PM UTC
If the Messiah they need is a woman
Convince them only men are holy.
If the Messiah they need is black
Convince them only white is holy
If the Messiah they need is same gender loving or non-binary
Convince them only heterosexual is holy
If the Messiah they need is proud
Convince them only humility is holy
If the Messiah they need holds knowledge in their left hand
Convince them the right hand is holy
If the Messiah they need has a ten point plan of righteously defending one's self
Convince them that the only holy answer is nonviolence.
If they ever one day happen to believe that they can define:
Self
By Self
Through Self
Of Self
Convince them that holiness is only attainable through a message and belief of:
Holy and selective Prosperity
Holy and selective Favoritism
Holy and selective
Elitism
If they ever happen to look in the mirror and one day love all that they see
Convince them that the holy standards of beauty deems every and all that makes them what they are ugly
If they ever happened to one day realize that the Messiah that they need is within all of them as a United People
Convince them that the holy Messiah can only lay in one person per generation and then publicly assassinate the person that they believe
Or you have chosen
To be their
Messiah.
© Christopher F. Brown 2018
Mar 18, 2018
Mar 18, 2018 at 2:04 AM UTC
Come Down
by Michael R. Burch
for Harold Bloom and the Ivory Towerists
Come down, O, come down
from your high mountain tower.
How coldly the wind blows,
how late this chill hour ...
and I cannot wait
for a meteor shower
to show you the time
must be now, or not ever.
Come down, O, come down
from the high mountain heather
blown to the lees
as fierce northern gales sever.
Come down, or your heart
will grow cold as the weather
when winter devours
and spring returns never.
NOTE: I dedicated this poem to Harold Bloom after reading his introduction to the Best American Poetry anthology he edited. Bloom seemed intent on claiming poetry as the province of the uber-reader (i.e., himself), but I remember reading poems by Blake, Burns, cummings, Dickinson, Frost, Housman, Eliot, Pound, Shakespeare, Whitman, Yeats, et al, and grokking them as a boy, without any “advanced” instruction from anyone. Keywords/Tags: Harold Bloom, literary, critic, criticism, elitist, elitism, ivory, tower, heights, mountain, winter, cold, frigid
Rant: The Elite
by Michael R. Burch
When I heard Harold Bloom unsurprisingly say:
Poetry is necessarily difficult. It is our elitist art ...
I felt a small suspicious thrill. After all, sweetheart,
isn’t this who we are? Aren’t we obviously better,
and certainly fairer and taller, than they are?
Though once I found Ezra Pound
perhaps a smidgen too profound,
perhaps a bit over-fond of Benito
and the advantages of fascism
to be taken ad finem, like high tea
with a pure white spot of intellectualism
and an artificial sweetener, calorie-free.
I know! I know! Politics has nothing to do with art
And it tempts us so to be elite, to stand apart ...
but somehow the word just doesn’t ring true,
echoing effetely away—the distance from me to you.
Of course, politics has nothing to do with art,
but sometimes art has everything to do with becoming elite,
with climbing the cultural ladder, with being able to meet
someone more Exalted than you, who can demonstrate how to ****
so that everyone below claims one’s odor is sweet.
You had to be there! We were falling apart
with gratitude! We saw him! We wept at his feet!
Though someone will always be far, far above you, clouding your air,
gazing down at you with a look of wondering despair.
Mar 30, 2020
Mar 30, 2020 at 12:44 AM UTC
Booted
The boss was a real fecking ****** who abused his position
Now he’s got the golden boot and is no longer there
But he goes to the company cark park to see his lieutenant
Who is just the same as him an equal seller more arrogant!
The original boss was quite a nice guy not a *******
It was his elite selling unit he set up that stunk of elitism
You’re not fecking fighter pilots so why the fake Godliness
It all stinks of ******** and **** licking all the way
Tong that far up the **** it comes outa their **** mouth
Who will fill the original boss’ boots will it be his lieutenant?
Who went to the same skool and was trained the same way
Instructions and orders are sent via messenger do this and that
Keep at it run the account my way this way I’m still there
My influence is like Uncle Joe Stalin always present and seeing
Give them Hell drove them to break to leave hire and fire ‘em
Still give me some wanga it’s my account even if I’m booted
Jul 16, 2023
Jul 16, 2023 at 8:00 AM UTC
There's nothing special about my greedy utopian dream:
I'm not off grid, or more ecco' friendly;
I still order luxury goods from overseas, hoard, engage in cliques, use the internet, dream about my own bit of land, claim any benefits I can.
I use the same drugs, minerals, roads, hospitals, banks, and I pollute the same air; with the same stink of self righteous elitism; because just like everyone else; I am unique!
(Off-grid irony)
Apr 19, 2021
Apr 19, 2021 at 10:28 AM UTC
I am hated.
Have been hated
All of my life.
People sneered,
Laughed,
Whispered,
Frowned,
Glared,
Teased.
Why?
Because I am
Slender.
Because I am
Blonde.
Because I am
Blue eyed.
Because I am
Middle class.
Because I am
White.
Because I am
"Perfect".
But I'm not.
I am no more
Perfect in the eyes
Of this wretched
Society than you
Or anyone else.
Blaming those
Different than
You is cruel,
Even if it is
Out of jealousy.
Jealousy
Ruins,
Breaks,
Destroys.
I have
Never
Said a hurtful
Word towards
Anyone's appearance
Or social status.
Why do so to
Me?
This is the other side
Of oppression.
Of racism.
Of elitism.
Think
Before you
Speak.
My life is not
"Perfect".
Don't bring me
Down
Because you think I'm
Up.
Why hate someone
Because they are what
Society deems
"Acceptable"?
We as a whole
SURPASS
"Acceptable".
There is infinite
Beauty
In each one of our
Differences.
Forget about those
Paper thin
"Models"
Who model nothing
But low self esteem.
It is time to be
Be your own model;
A model for
Generations
To come.
If you take anything
From this
Feverishly construed
Poem, let it be this:
Do not
Assume
One party has it
Easier
Than
You.
Oct 9, 2014
Oct 9, 2014 at 10:31 PM UTC
Did we not found this Country
to escape subversive elitism and unjust law?
What the **** happened?
Jul 5, 2013
Jul 5, 2013 at 1:24 PM UTC
Hard Fall
Dead Winter
Soft Spring
Suddenly Summer
Rehash
All the needles on the ground I found
and cigarette butts
Create the frame of this city-town
and liberate us
Liberate?
Indenture
Is a better descriptor
Should you beat elitism
Peace and Love?
Progressive?
Truth is lost to history
Should you read you see schism
From one bridge looking North
I see at least five more bridges
Westside and East split by a river
This is a long, long division
And it's not stopped
Jan 28, 2014
Jan 28, 2014 at 7:48 AM UTC
just one song...
nothing more...
soulfly's...
tribe...
nothing more...
honestly nothing
more...
there's nothing
to counter
with...
really...
i'm guiding
Aztec pyramids...
to counter
the European fascination
with
the Egyptian
exposes...
don't mind me...
i feel,
slightly bored...
like...
i feel bored,
having to wesr sunglasses,
because,
i'd prefer to see the moon,
and no star apparent...
why am i wearing sunglasses
in the night?
i don't like seeing stars...
i prefer seeing only
the moon at night...
like i might watch the pristine sky
of azure during thje day
and only one star...
i'm sure i won't see as many moons during
the day,
as i see as many stars during the night!
you, have, a, "problem"
with me wearing sunglasses
during the night?
well...
i have a problem to boot
to counter yours...
how about you keep your
culture to your people
and let them entertain /
enjoy it...
unless of course...
your people are tired of
entertaining / enjoying it?
maybe it's the latter...
given?
sure as **** i'm tired of
entertaining
what this culture entertains
as a byproduct,
mediocre;
but nonetheless requiring
to be, "respected"...
so the elite of other cultures
is to be deemed...
wait... wait...
our cultural mediocre is
to be deemed superior
of foreign culture's elitism?
really?!
no...
sign me up for dying the death
of a pauper,
than agreeing to that
sort of ********
i'd be a son god with my
hair coloring among
the Aztecs...
but among my whittle
privy assorts,
i'd be an esteeming
social climber...
death the pauper among
the dreams of man,
as man: the hoping depth of dream,
in the reality of death...
but he, the Englishman
man, can first, dictate,
his, "rights"...
in Rochdale...
start there...
then work your way down...
otherwise?
sh.... ut... the... ****
up!
savvy?!
you dictate where i tell you
to dictate...
you don't tell me
what i am, and am not to do...
when you made it,
so apparent...
your women
agree to first,
notably girls...
and you... "defiantly" nod and
approve to...
no...
i've been told what i am
and what i am not supposed
to do or what i am supposed
to not do...
you didn't have
this discussion with a ****
last time i heard...
have the discussion you
had with me,
next time you... pretend to have it
with one of your former colonial
bull-whips...
o.k.?!
good...
well!
apparently a former colonialists
requires
to know what a colonial power-grip
feels like...
apparently the whip has become dry...
it's almost like...
the ******* are fetish frenzied
culminating in a starving
experience!
even if they asked:
i wouldn't enjoy the ********** role
of a colonialist...
i'd "enjoy" the whole affair...
as i'd weep...
striking an animal...
i mean... smacking a dog...
i couldn't imagine myself
hitting a dog, disciplining it...
but with regards to hitting a human?
i just might entertain sifting through
counters, equivalent to qualms.
Oct 2, 2018
Oct 2, 2018 at 11:16 PM UTC
i
i can put my nose in the air too
saying and who are you
and what do you do..
(ah, your way is true..)
ii
but i think i loose
pointless-elitism
a silly noose..
iii
in the end
a stuffed goose
iv
friend
my choice
v
your choice..
Aug 25, 2018
Aug 25, 2018 at 7:24 AM UTC
Forget pre-Madonnas
We want to get away from all the self-proposed Shakespeares that think their opinions matter more here
Humanity should rid itself from elitism and stop being insincere
It would put our contributions in the clear.
Sep 1, 2018
Sep 1, 2018 at 10:30 PM UTC
To the Lonely Lunaticks -->
Have no worries - I'm ONE with you,
Although myn diagnosis was Miss-Directed,
Supposedly for myn own sake;
But I have my doubts about Others motives.
I'm against Ostracism -->
I'll play Devil's Advocate to save a Soul.
I'm against Nepotism -->
Jobs should go to boys and girls of equal capacity (not always Blood).
I'm against Cronyism -->
F**k your mates at the expense of competent workers.
I'm against Elitism -->
Who the F**k do you think you ARE?
Just because You have an Expertise,
Doesn't mean You're the Arbiter of Truth.
I'm against First Impressions -->
Primarily because they are normally Wrong!
[Besides, it's 1st impressions that the CON-DAMNS!]
I'm against Repression of Free Will -->
Dissent is a Natural response to Wrong!
However, not all Free Speech is Healthy;
Neither for Individuals, nor Society at large.
I'm against the Non-Humourists ==> Killers of Fun & Happiness & Curiosity.
{Personally, while not always in good taste, I don't think Humour should be held to any Taboos}.
Mar 4, 2014
Mar 4, 2014 at 5:54 AM UTC
I'm looking through at the joys
Which are traveling slowly
On these dim LEDs tonight.
There is eternal love
Behind one of the doors,
And behind plenty of others
There exists a world
Where we begin to dissolve,
But our surface area increases greatly.
Will we luck out,
Or are we destined to call this audible?
I don't know why you
Are coating yourself in this
Jagged exterior of elitism
When you know all too well
How Faust squandered his soul.
Don't tell me I'm repeating my mistakes
Because you don't understand
That I'm bettering myself,
As you glare in to my consciousness
Through your kaleidoscope
Where everything must look like paradox.
Let me think for myself now.
I've weighed the advantages
More times than you have,
And I promise you,
These circumstances are far better.
Love to you is like the Monty Hall Problem,
And you always think there's a bigger prize
Behind the next door.
You aren't increasing your fortune,
And that's not how you win.
I'd say you're not using game theory very well,
And I'd posit that's no way to live your life.
You want to feel calculated and powerful
By approaching love with your Id fully wanting,
And wanting the apex of what it can obtain.
Oct 25, 2015
Oct 25, 2015 at 11:21 PM UTC
See the TRUTH and shame the devil
Tell the truth and shame the devil
duplicity, chicanery, Machiavellian and being disingenuous
all have consequences that you will pay for eventually
You have ruined names, reputations, careers and a happy home
in what you lied is some revolution against 'Elitism'
when they truth is a racist mobbing of a successful black couple
who stood up to a thieving racist family and thus your racist war
Tell the truth and shame the devil
you and your mob of criminal gang-stalkers and fooled vigilantes
have framed, fabricated, manipulated, hounded and intimidated
gone through every insidious permutations of Gang-stalkers Manual
thinking I would have broken down or committed suicide by now
you taken an innocent couple, divided them and wrecked love
you've ruined careers, made me jobless, isolated me, spread poison
Tell the truth and shame the devil
you keep on fabricating lies to hide your evil deeds and manners
got unaware masses believing your framing and cover ups
after creating false and staged incidences and happenings
all done to keep stitching me up as you have always done
fooling people into believing they are gods controlling things
selling dummies to people and mugging their intelligence
Tell the truth and shame the devil
you racist bullies picking on a black man because he has no gang
because he is polished and calm, you assume he'll fall in no time
you diminish my strength, stoicism, by creating false reasons
my self-respect, self-assurance and self control you hinge on false
premises, inferring I can only maintain your enforced celibacy
because I am stripping women with my eyes or gaping at big *****
Tell the truth and shame the devil
You are racist criminals hell bent on silencing and destroying me
I am standing still cause I am innocent, confident, intelligent brave
I do not operate through the base instincts of people like you
who are governed by their simple minds and uninformed emotions
childish, immature, base, uncouth, crass indulgent, simplistic *****
your asinine attempts at manipulation or control is all a big con
on the masses who you have hood=winked from day one till now
Tell the truth and shame the devil
off-course you can not because you are all born liars and psychos
triggers, hinges, anchors, sensitizing, gas-lighting, hazing, softening, terrorizing, demoralizing, how long you have been at it,
I am still standing, I am not scared of low lives, **** and criminals
You can fool all the people some of the time and some of the people all the time, but you cannot fool all the people all the time.
Tell the truth and shame the devil
Tell the truth and shame the devil
Tell the truth and shame the devil
Tell the truth and shame the devil
Jul 4, 2019
Jul 4, 2019 at 11:54 AM UTC