FMD

They’re the overfed entitled swine.

On opulence they dine.

Living high of OD’s will die; to be heroically canonized.

From the tops of the penthouse treats, to the clubs on hit neon streets.

Honesty’s gone. See her sometime next year.

Hope she returns. The streets are full of fear.

When hope has fallen, and the child’s thrown to tears.

Someone please save us. From the lies of their fears.

They ran down the boulevard shouting anarchy directions.

Set fire to the minimart, watched supplies burn in expectation.

In came the fire brigade, with a riot force escort.

Hypermedia spin persona’s fuel hysteria reports.

GET BACK. MOVE ALONG. DISPERSE.

Smoke guns and tear grenades.

Everywhere a panic parade.

Knives cutting the fire hose.

The hopes of peace were indisposed.

Hands raised in innocence.

Billy clubs met bones and flesh.

ESCALATION. DEMONSTRATION. 

A man beaten well past his sense, placed in god’s arms and dropped just then.

RIOT! RIOT! RIOT!

Looking at the populace and saying no we will not help but instead stonewalling and handballing.
A system that is flawed is expected, but one that doesn’t acknowledge its faults and admit it’s shortcomings and utter failures is detrimental.

Looking at a child left in the aisle.

Blaming teachers, mothers, preachers.

Holding hostage from bandstand to bleachers.

Your bloodshot eyes belie the ties of your academic treachery.

Look toward the boulevard for the all-too-televised lechery.

OVERCROWDING

UNDERFUNDING

OVERTESTING

UNDERDRESSING

OVERHYPING

UNDERMINING

OVER

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s