Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Lucy Feb 2018
The yonder above is forever bruised and opaque
Reigning over glum faces
Complexions washed with a bloodless shade of dispassion
Robotic, disengaged.

Material desires are quenched with vast shopping centres
Credit Cards hold on for dear live
As every last drop of sweet money is rinsed from that plastic rectangle.

Living beyond our means
Whilst simultaneously refusing to give up on Sky TV box sets and liquid lunches.

Hooked to our phones, but not for telephone communication
Rather, for self validation
Defined by the click of a heart or pathetic thumb.

The once friendly communities
With blood coursing through their veins
Are husks of their previous life form, gentrified beyond recognition.

Filtered faces with protruding spines and modified features
Infiltrate mass media
Corrupting the definitions of success and beauty.

Plastic personalities reign supreme
Vacuous minded socialites profess women’s empowerment begins with the flaunting of skin
Rather than the possession of a strong mind.

Many bury their heads in the sand
Residing in ignorance
As mass genocides and civil wars manifest every second.

Or worse, they read the TORYgraph and THE ****  
Believing immigrants spawn white genocide
And white conservatives suffer oppression.

Pffft!

I have deep contempt for those behind these ***** tabloids
Murdoch and his monsters
Orchestrating lies and bile
Destroying lives or scaremongering the impressionable
Committing the most savage, sycophantic crimes
In order to extract Monday’s headline.

I do not suffer fools
Especially those who make up the tapestry of dystopia
A failing age of doom.

— The End —