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Divisive Juncture

Category: /General/
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Orwell shaking in his grave
We haven’t a shred of hope
Words bled on parchment
Would come to pass
As the shadowy elite
Just laugh uproariously from
Their hidden compound at
What sheeple we’ve become
Just keep pushing the narrative of division
And watch us implode on live TV
Do what we say
As we are subjected to pie in the sky declarations
That logically would destroy humanity
No prediction of a human messiah
Ever to come true
What fools to believe?
That anything can be free
While you’re busily rubbing two pennies
They’re living behind gated mansions
Ingesting dope thumbing their noses
At the idiots who naively believed
In their distorted beliefs.

Can’t say it enough
When one is afraid to tell the truth
At the risk of being labeled
And inevitably alienated
They must as well be pronounced dead in spirit
If you’re unable to challenge
The irrationality of so-called leaders
What’s the point of truly living?
Being?
If you’re too sensitive
Then grow a pair
But for heaven’s sake
Don’t pretend to have all the answers
When you’ve never been asked the tough questions
For a blind man can’t see
You smiling and shaking hands
But he can feel your deceit.

P-8/17/19.


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