The World Gone Mad - The Only Sane One
My dear, have you not heard the news?
The theatre has closed down.
Due to the riots on avenue and boulevard,
I do not want to gossip about it.
Find it on the latest tabloids and crusades.
Darling, the streets had spread the word
Of the Lord Stuyvesant.
His head was marched down our street,
Decapitated and hoisted up on a lance.
I could not believe the violence of our town.
What has our world become?
When I stepped out on the front porch outside,
I heard their foul disparage.
Youthful energies echoing scornful abuses aloud,
And the saints who endorsed it.
Shame on this backward world I was born into,
This life of inferno I was burdened with.
I swore on the night of my honeymoon rove,
To not bare children within this hellfire furnace.
I would rather suffer the same fate as Lord Stuyvesant.
To the mundane monarchy who live in their manors,
I could not run to tell my good man.
I do not want to gossip about any of the occurrences,
That has fallen upon these riots in our town.
Where do I run to, if I am in need of rescue and love?
The theatre had closed down.
Darling, if these rabid vermin would listen for once
In their twopenny-halfpenny lives,
They would not have the need to protest against
A system which have been nothing but good to them,
But they are far too gone now, it has all gone to frenzy.
So much ado about nothing.
Copyright © Madison-Wayne Petersen | Year Posted 2025
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