Unpredictable
is the predictable crowd
It might
as a flash-mob
sing as one
or as one throng
it will cheer
Nothing is wrong
the herd is happy
but
then again
most predictable
are the horde
it may be bored
it may be
ever so mildly
irritated
by a passing cloud
Unrest prods
the mass and press
One may infect the many
a parasitic worm awakes
in the collective mind
in the multiheaded monster
The worm is rampant
it is insane
It will kill at will
it will scream and run
tear down a village
a town or a city
The worm devours
reason
a blood-lust
reddens every eye
The once human
becomes
a killing machine
suddenly
the mob subsides
sleeps and snores
the terror trickles away
One day
it comes to its senses
and makes a new law
It seeks out
just one person
just one or two
It will most righteously
lynch that one person
or two
The crowd will burst out
once more
as one
it will burst into
an inspiring song
and much uplifting
merry cheer
Once again
predictably
happy is the herd
as it sings along
Nothing is wrong
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