Political RantPolitical Rant
What a fascist faction of government this repugnant republic is.
What swill it utters.
What repulsive stills it festers.
Swishing a swaying the suffering people, lying in the gutters.
The swines. Faces fat in the sewer with faltering lies,
Buzzing with fecal flies.
What false promises it proposes.
What a sad and lonely, pathetic little monarch we are.
Masking ourselves as some other people,
We killed those soldiers, and burned those steeples.
We threw those books in the fires.
We the liars, the enemy, the arson.
We the teacher, doctor, and parson.
What horrible, deceiving, monsters we are.
Salted fruits and ashed meats,
Suckling from our own soured tits.
We dine on tainted ideals of anthropophiles,
and all the while, we are those people.
"Hypocrisy" I shudder.
If those things living in your masks want change, then beckon it.
It's unbecoming of them to abstain their reckoning.
They're wrecking themselves to hide, and it's sickening
It's demeaning to lose
LostAlice said to the red-dressed man whom she found one day, "Are you lost?"
"I've lost many things in my day, but I can't say I've ever had trouble finding myself no I am not lost, but I have lost something rather important but be gone with you! I can find it myself. I can find my way."
Alice thought the man to be quite rude, and she decided to walk away , not caring at all where the man's way was.
"Are you lost?" Asked the man, stepping over to Alice.
"No I am not, but I'd be if you'd not follow me."
"But I'm not. I'm following your shadow, and it is your shadow who I was asking. It seemed unsure of where it was going. Quite funny aren't they?"
"What are?" Asked Alice, her voice rising.
"Shadows of course." answered the man.
"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about."
"well that's a silly thing to be afraid of! I'll tell you what I'm talking about. I'd hate to cause you to be scared. I'm talking about shadows. They never quite know where they're going."
The Samaritan'sThe Samaritan's
I shan't cudgel my dignity
with fib, misguidance, or sin.
It is my honor to be your divinity,
An honor, your kin.
I am your blanket, swept vastly 'cross crosses
your herald in streets,
Enveloping sheets, I begin
I begin to travel, traverse, and convert.
Conversing with earnest, my burdens still hurt.
The people won't listen, they lead stray from my plea.
Plead I go so, so on I go, heeding the me of your beauty.
Please my affinity to be, your baroness.
You look less like a baron with my being your guest
Heading away, yet from you I went out.
How can they dare to go out?!
How can they let you be unspoken?
How can they dare be without?!
I'll be your voice, awoken.
And yet they don't see me, or hear you, or my dress.
Ragged in sheets which you clothed me in,
hold me in,
The dirt they kick up, the fuss they kick up chokes me.
I dressed in serenity, but fall over,
and I hurt.
No one stops to listen...
No one sto