Solution Prospects Grow Bleak and Weak
Leave free agents alone
Bully
For they’ve got no time to be the clone
You hurt truly and deeply
In games without aim
Where you torture and suture at will
Treating victims the same
Way happiness you steal
To boost your roost
Bereft of sympathy
Milking hearts reduced
To torture telepathy
Leaving them reeling in horror
At the reckless manner
In which you unleash terror
Brandishing the indifference banner
Spelling and selling in no uncertain terms
Your manifesto
That regurgitates your germs
Spread and read pronto
As with gangrenous glee
You lick your lips
Watching victims flee
From your wanton whips and trips
Knowing not whether you love or hate
Folks whose bliss blocks, clocks and stocks you break
In your haste to waste the best
They offer you morning and night in the trek
You undertake to swell your ego
Diminishing and squashing their self concept
As to their detriment your alter ego does undergo
A transformation in which your favourite precept
Condones wantonness and abandons happiness
In favour of sadism pushed to the limit
Where you grow sadness
As you ascent to victims’ destruction when they approach your ambitions’ summit
Where destruction becomes inevitable
Hope and comfort grow weak
Remonstration becomes redoubtable
And prospects for solutions grow rather bleak.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
