Wednesday, June 1, 2016

An Opera of Oprah-her

Oh the memory of a meme, cried out
as a voice on a screen, a curious meme...
I cried with the rest, I could not rest.

People just want validation, so it
seems, but guts are bursting in
a girdled dream. Ah-hum said the
humbug in a lonely dream.

Validation is winning at best, a noble
notion and an infinite jest. I read so
i past the test, still here, so i'll finish
a jaded... well... not the best.

The women are swarming as infinite spies,
with powerful humming of wantonly sighs,
the Goddess they mocked with their corporate
lies and gathered a fold in sheepish disguise.

The wolf lies in wait for the foolish demise.

The power that waits comes from innocent eyes.

The children are coming and they know what is what,
and they cannot be trusted to the what that is what,
a trussed up facade that is sacred here, is a trussed
up facade that falls deaf to the ear, your words
are not relevant here.

Do not talk of validation to me, it's a word and a
place that's not valid... see?

I see, said the blind mind. It's not relevant to me.

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