Knock, knock

Of avatars and caricatures
to mitigate responsibility,
whichever fits
the need
to intercede
and possibly deceive…
leading
the deaf, dumb
and blind
down a path
of dire tidings –
listening to fools
and mascots
instead their scribes
and poets…
how would they know
that the Emperor has no clothes
if we ain’t reading
anymore?

On the cusp of
being a victim
to historical constructs
repeating…

knock, knock
who is it?

Ignorance at the door,
beckoning to come in
saying they’ve got
a friend….

this my fellow humans
might be the end,
no room for
kindness, humanity, books
or science…
in the land
of sodomites, blasphemers
and felons…
as karma
will prove
that God don’t
like ugly.

Published by Shun P. Writes

Author, Genealogist, Writer, Poet, Podcast Host, possessor of 2 cents, Blogger and eternal student of life, who harbors a firm belief in his Grandmother's mantra that: "People need to get off of their rump and do something". All while keeping in mind that a cheering section will often get in the way. View all posts by Shun P. Writes