Anonymity's Red Carpet

Anonymity’s Red Carpet by Odin Roark Plush the red Expansive the coverage Bombastic the stage Every loser’s dream The why of lights Camera Action Masses Begs kneeling Before the collapse… Of the mass convergence On any and all stages Where fame and fortune’s delusion Plays out Why the red? Why the carpet? Why the lights? Why the cameras? Why the spectators? “Johnny, you’re special” “Good job, Johnny” “Way to go, Johnny” Until Wake up call You’re not special You’re just different Your bubble bursts You turn to… To… Anything… ‘cause your mommy told you “You’re special, Johnny” And you claw your way To the crimson rug For your sorry ass feet How dense this malady of identification This malaise of dysfunction Perpetrated by us as Biological parents Scholastic parents Business parents Know-it-all political parents Fostered by the media Perpetuated by the leaches of awesome variety The “so-called” grownups Of the parasitic world Continue to flourish Like their ancestral history Cockroachdom However In the shadows Stands calm The minds understanding Those of reality bathed Cleansed of conscious debris Remnant baggage disintegrating Knowing they are/were never special Save the gratuitous claims of others Just distinct How rewarding This silent walk Toward nowhere And everywhere Gifted with sober ethics A modicum of intelligence And desire to never be lured Into a red carpet moment of seduction One becomes a thinker Anonymous to most As identity of thought Should be Especially as one looks upon Anonymity’s red carpet