Obliviocide

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What of sorts or methods
Of recourse can we find
To stop the maddening tortures
Perpetrated by the blind

What to do when a genius
‘Mongst members of his band
Is relegated to ‘idiot’
‘Mongst the sightless
Of This Land

Beautiful shells with souls
In his image go
‘Mongst US
Rarely settling
For mindlessness on they grow

It may take two decades
For you to see me nigh
With brown through blue
And thoughtless, and
How you made me
Cry

Horses know about it
And for it, you’re too, right
Strapped so tight your blinders
It might as well be night

Progenitors teaching logic
Where we sow love instead
Breeds a shallow person
Who might as well be dead

But ‘long as they’re
‘Mongst brethren
Or foreigners
Jump high
No recourse yet
Is needed

Just another guy

Mando

Copyright © 2015 Carl Atteniese Jr., AKA ‘Mando’, All rights reserved.

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