India Eisley: "Socio"
Add insane pain to adversity.
There is no gain.
You profane the same.
Profit becomes loss.
You owe the world
for the reduction
for turning people into food
for carrion fowl;
for pouring blood into
the streets, the fields,
the water, the dirt.
Alienation takes infatuation beyond saturation.
It becomes your only companion; the welcome mat
for scorn and derision.
How long will you pretend?
How long will your posture be a pose
for the rose that denies you repose?
How long will your rage be a page
for the stage of non-age?
How long will your rant refuse to recant
the slant that destroys your Rembrandt
leaving you with breath so scant
that you are left in a pant?
You pour out your wrath on the path
to the cash, but you don't do the math
for the cost of the bloodbath.
You detach from your conscience
like a sociopath.
You forget the law against murder
to make your barber a berber
to say you harbor a lurker
and to take it even further,
you barter for the merger
of verdure, workers and fervor
for the pain you disdain.
Behind the scenes
with blood curdling screams
you acquire the means
to burst at the seams.
Wisdom will imprison
your bank business kingdom
imperialism in an autistic prism
with an undetectable rhythm.
There will be no denying
the sad sorrowful sighing
and the unstoppable crying
the goes with the fall
from your climb
to the depths
of illegal law.
Let the beguiled brainchild
smile. She will be reconciled
with redemption from the preemption
of affection for attention to apprehension
against indefinite detention and other
violations of the right to life with liberty
and justice for all.
Winning at any cost with whatever it takes
makes your victory fake. We are the people;
the keepers of faith. We will redeem
your mistakes, but you owe us the change.