With what people are saying I can’t be concerned.
Words escape through the anus to then coalesce
To form one social stratosphere thick and profuse
With the stench of thought squandered. Intent to seduce
The concern of the masses is one game of chess
Where the winner takes all so that all hope is spurned.
Much emotional cloudiness dampens the air.
Why not add my own moisture? It seems only right.
Realistic illusions themselves interact
With most others most like them. In fiction there’s fact
That the odious formula dares to excite
Hate that would remain dormant with but a cold stare.
There are some viral symptoms that I can unmask
To the view of the public because of free speech.
They can’t be covered up. They’re revealed openly
For my sick hart and those of all others to see.
Is a lesson of love one collusion can teach?
Or is this one more question that I should not ask?