Wednesday, April 15, 2020

Blight (The observer)

This #poem is an observation from another world, perhaps from within this one.


Blight

You're Not the Tops

I've been here a long time. I've stayed many places and I've chosen where I may live, be it to your asset or your fabricated detriment. Compared to all of my locations, I find this place to be the most sullied, spoiled, and taken for granted when it comes to its inhabitants. There are throngs of you milling about believing you are so entitled – your actions so unbridled – that you've become the blight to your own crop.
I've had the privilege of integrating with your perception of the best and I must tell you that I am not impressed. Your societal standards have been fished from the sewer and your gall prompts you to set them haughtily above on a universal marquee as laws that have poisoned bloodlines across your questionable borders.
Well, the time has come for me to leave and I shed no sad tears. I've made my observations and should inform you that your poison cistern will no longer sustain you. You have forfeited your self-appointed rank as top of the food chain. With your enslaving, petty ideals, you've managed to extend and create wastelands beyond your archaic precepts. You breed adversity where there need be only peace and it will no longer be tolerated. This is a note to the deliberately clueless. The foundation of your private occupation must be extinguished.

Pamela Benjamin

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