Oct. 18th, 2018
This is a poem, disguised as a message, written in plain sight, homage to a smoking forum swat leader playing ban the next guy:
If you are a victim of crowd sourced shenanigans by private or governmental entities and agents who wish you’d die rather than say what you wish you could —
You can’t prove maybe, but signed a non-disclosure agreement to not say what you did, done, and may still do for pay
You are a victim of the terrible disgrace against all;
Don’t die silent, don’t keep doing it just because you think there’s nothing else.
Factories do shut down and people find different ways to be happy
Perhaps even more than they’d ever understood before.
Late one night before this Washington Post journalist found dead in a kingdom’s palace building for wanting a wedding, I had a dream:
A man was beheaded, dreamt October 5th 2018
Two days after the journalist went missing.
The human rights violation has been crossed and business deals may be the last thing a country would want with such a leadership as these and those and what we have now batting an eye and turning a shoulder at what is unacceptable at every angle
We are all being lead into a kingdom similar to a game of literal thrones —
We will all need to invest in rhyming dictionaries for the nurseries are to be filled with new horrid songs to be made beloved by the future nightmared children I hope are never forced to exist (without true love).
(rough draft poem)
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