Email Poem

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Personal Note:

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Poem

You ranted, raved, and lectured us,
for years on the silver screen.
You called us filthy, redneck scum,
claimed our ideas were obscene.
All the while you were raping
naïve, young girls in your hotel,
and yet you dare to lecture us?
Hollywood, what the hell?

You went after a major church,
for doing things they ought not.
You patted yourselves on the back
for exposing all the rot.
But it’s kind of hard to praise you,
and proclaim that all is well,
when you trade teenage boys like currency,
Hollywood, what the hell?

You say you fight for women,
and that we’re unwashed misogynists,
yet you created the casting couch,
and have now gone far beyond it.
You casually destroy and smear
any who would dare tell,
hypocrisy grows well in So Cal,
Hollywood, what the hell?

And those who kept their silence,
who knew this all went on,
who harped about deplorables
in an endless, winging song,
who had no problem with ugliness
drunken from a poisoned well,
so long as big paychecks kept coming,
Hollywood, what the hell?

You scamper to bury it all,
though the illusion has long died.
You continue thinking you’re elite,
ignoring the mote sticking from your eye.
You think this can just go away,
but that’s an impossible sell.
You never lecture us again,
Hollywood, go to Hell.

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