No more than words
On a page
Is the government
Yet we are
All
Disobeying it
Some of it
Some more than others
Like angry big brothers
Big boxes of documents
Never recover
What’s lost
Are the funds
You entrust
Will secure you
Empower
Sustain
In your outrage
Endure you
So long as your faith
Remains blind in devotion
To weathering storms
Of off-shoring erosion
To bettering forms
Of corruption
Construction
To meeting their quotas
Upscaling production
Like any adventures
And exploits
Abroad
Can’t admit
Execution
Was critically flawed
As domestically
Status quo silents  
Attest
To disquieting riots
And civil unrest

Woe upon knowing
It goes without saying
The solace one feels
As if piously praying
Must sway us from
Wasting away
In our disarray
Wallowing
Following
Death to its
Darkest day
At its doorstep
Bereft
Nothing is left
What a mess
Have I kept
Unexpressed
For too long
Have repressed its inherent
Outspokenness song
And so this is my thing
My belongings
All packed
And unpacked
For the world to see
Living for
High by night
Writing
Serenity

The soul
Problem, child
Is central to me
For the only known
Undertone
Anxiety
In its ominous
Overblown
Clinically ill
Pharmaceutical
Profits
Don’t stop
Pop a pill
Just sit still
And sit back
With your head up straight
Automate
Autocrat
Technopath
Endlessly innovate
Paths to destruction
The masses
Production
Outweighing
The take home pay
Painstaking
Day by day
Gruelingly
Grinding
Their bodies
And minds
Away

Forevermore
Together
Mine
Without you here
The sun don’t shine
And I am left to ponder
In some far beyond
Despondent state
What looks to be
The world I know
But remnants,
Traces
Out of place
Who talks to me
Frivolity
Who hears my heart’s
Discography
Replaying dedications
Longing
Ne’er to see
A new day
Dawning

Distant
As dusk
Seems to darken the mood
When so much these days
Recollection
Still eludes
And the longer
I sit
And I stare
Contemplating
Dumbfounded
It scares me
And leads to berating
These strangers
So oddly
Familiar
Yet I
Can’t recall who it was
Earlier
I made cry
It’s as if
I’m aware
I don’t want to be rotten
But all reasons why
Are becoming
Forgotten

Reinventing the wheel
Like we do ourselves
Yearly
Envision distorted
Reality
Clearly
Sincerely
Deep fake
It to make it
A state
Isolating
App date’s
Life expectancy rate
That of late
Seems to sate its great
Counter-production
With more black and white
Field of dreams
Reconstruction

Always sneaking away
In his little
Man cave
The man-made
Powerless
By transcending the grave
When it dawns on him
Fled from his
Failed escapade
From corrupt repercussions
Too hushed to be saved
From the mortal sins
None but the rich
Can attain  
Through religions sustaining
Indulgence’s gain
There is no more escape
No facade-costumed rave
No more corridors,
Fortresses,
Fortunes
And fame
Just the people
Protesting
Too long in his nesting
Atop where they toil
Too much of their blood
Has he spilled in the soil
And watered his verdant
Palatial complexes
With greed at the heart
Of his god
Of excesses