Age of the poltroon

If life

is so real

why does

its experience

rapidly turn

into these

once

treasured

but

guarded

memories?

we live in the age

of the poltroon

how do we

feel

when life does

nothing but hurt?

we know

life humbles

but

they

(the poltroons)

won’t

kneel…

they aren’t the person

they think they are

they guard

no intrinsic

values

and

morals

because as soon

as they

knew

what they really

were about

they’d change

once more

they think they

know how to love

deeply

but

they find out

much later

they do not

they are not enjoying their youth

it’s the happiest time

they will ever have…

it comes but once

their beliefs

don’t work

the poltroon

has no power

you better

agree with him

or you’re gonna get it

you won’t even know

it was he who struck

you below the belt

so insidious

so angry

embedded

treacherous

those who

escape

persecution

must

remain

silent

we have become

our own

species

of breed

our

time

has

come

it

is

now

at

hand

 

 

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