I know we’re all really busy shuffling through 1000s of emails and social media posts in our vigilant quest to do our personal best in fighting against the encroaching cockaroaching double you eee eff & other unelected borganizations. But can you spare an eternal moment to read my poetry? I mean, it’s only a poem. It’s not going to change the world, or could it? I promise, you’ll still have time to attend your three-year old sister’s brother-in-law’s nephew’s great nephew’s birthday party even though his head’s floating in the clouds of the alpha dream state and won’t remember a thing about it. You’ll still be able to watch the Sunday football game with your other buddies over snacks and brewskis, playing armchair coach from your skybox even though the game’s as fake and scripted as the double you double you eee. But if it could change the world maybe fighter jets would stop in midair before dropping another explosive deuce upon Gaza or laying down another chemveil of plane cocaine that blanket the land in clouds of luminous aluminum; or make even injured toy soldiers buy-o-their-weapons back and turn their forts into playgrounds. Maybe --just maybe— people would get up from their desks in offices all over the world and walk out en masse through the revolving doors once and for all, and just keep walking through a new set of invisible doors into a different Life. Maybe the Pied Piper would pipe his happy little ditty and drive out all the rats who tried to destroy our world and lead them over the cliff like lemmings to their well-deserved end. Maybe we would finally learn who we really are without all the filters welded onto our eyes by history’s handlers. And maybe— just maybe— everyone would finally have whatever they need to live their lives in peace abundance and prosperity; hands interlocking other hands to form a network of cooperation, everyone’s heart a flag waving in freedom’s cool trembling breeze. And-- who knows?-- the whole planet could be turned into party city for which everyone would be their own Mayor inaugurating a brand-new everyday of Heaven on Earth. Now can you spare an eternal moment to read my poetry? It’s not going to change the world. Or could it…?
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The Pen IS mightier than the Sword, my friend.
I was banned from my mother's dialysis unit by ARMED GAURDS just for speaking out about wholesale murr durr.
Your words are like fondant off an exquisitely decorated cake made to look like solar prominences held up by their own intertia.
Do not stop poeting ❤️