abuse of power
in broad daylight
score one for my narcissist
passive aggressive anarchist
a bloody hole dark red
in the back of his head
his constant petty torts
cloud my minds thoughts
hate controls me
in broad daylight
under a bed
under a bed
in broad daylight
in broad daylight
under a bed
under a bed
in broad daylight
i call on my muse to bless
her name is sensual goddess
my super hero will decompress
she will drone out my nemesis
rewire the circuits in my brain
give me the colors of the rain
she signs our love infinity
in broad daylight
under a bed
under a bed
in broad daylight
in broad daylight
under a bed
under a bed
in broad daylight
play that loop again
play that loop again
and again
mass segregation
...............
this heinous monstrosity of segregation,
that drains the blood, sweat, and tears
from generations of poor, illiterate, and downtrodden,
rapist of family values, and murderer
of productivity and hard working hands,
the dream of 5 year old boys whose aspirations
of being like daddy wind him up on a dime bag street corner,
grappling frazzled bits and pieces,
the remnants of a worn out dream,
passed down through a shackled and indoctrinated
system of beliefs twisted by the hands of greedy governments,
and corporate schemes that trade lives for money.
this heinous monstrosity of segregation,
convincing mothers they are better off alienated
from their children,
and that a father's life for his son or daughter
is worth nothing more than three meals and a cot,
a place to rot, and a sacred book of scripture only given
to wash the sins of those hands that profit
from the years of ones held captive and sometimes murdered
for crimes unworthy of the time,
hours and years robbed from innocent loved ones
who pay the burden of the brainless zombies
taking pride in their jobs that torture the downtrodden.of societies
in every nation.
this the system we take pride in,
that we divide in,
husband from wife, father from son,
left with no remaining choice in the end,
but to sever all ties completely from everyone,
draining any scintilla of scraps
from the family 'till of loving plenty',
no leftovers from the dinnertime table of togetherness
savored for a child in need of
what it means to awaken to the sound of unity,
a now lost and forgotten concept taught only
in lieu of a desire for mass destruction and for-profit policing
of innocent citizens,
where are the people who say they care about the children?
5:36 AM 7/11/2013 ©
with inspiration from 'riddles'
http://www.postpoems.org/authors/belial_lair/poem/945997#comment-402731
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