13 Lines

In 12 lines I will be dead
and the blame will be fully yours
been thinking about this for centuries
just needed the tilt you provided
from the great ocean of requirement
fantasized at law giver central
by cross eyed fanatics wailing truth
while eating their children in sacrifice
to propitiate the next shooting star extinction
how we got here from there is not pretty
and an application of aesthetics
would be more than bad taste
it would be false
Copyright © | Year Posted 2020

Poem

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