Pay no mind to man behind the curtain.
You've learned the superficial but his depths are still uncertain.
You tried to plot his course and see that death is lurking.
Look into his eye and you'll see the drugs are working.
It's the sad sad tale of the promise land.
Where you calculate your worth with a cyber hand.
Where you're notified daily that no one understands.
With modern civil rights as false as facebook friends.
They say "We've got to come together; gotta make this right!"
Fat chance of that happening unless you pass that pipe.
On this bureaucratic farm with it's produce ripe.
They cultivate the origins of your foresight.
Playing on your misery as if it were delight.
Still you are convinced you're in a fair fight....
Copyright © Dill Dennison | Year Posted 2016
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
to post a comment