Tags
apocalyptic, Censorship, Creativity, Frankenstein monster, Humanity, identity, mass politics, mob, poem, poem poetry political moral, Poet, poetry, power, psychological
CREATURE
I am a creature
of rhythm
and rhyme
no longer
fit into
your paradigm
which has shifted,
turned
from Sun to
Moon
from place
of fire to
dark, cold crater
(on side that
never sees
the Earth)and worse,
I suspect my difference
means you
must kill if
you catch meand so, already running but
will you hunt me?
I look for torches but
of course there are
nonethat you
no longer see, are
stumbling in darkness
does not mean
you are not comingyour true meaning
always in form of
mob or
posseeherein alone your
sense of certaintyas I
leave words to
hide
and reveal my trail
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