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Who would of Thought?

Asphyxiating darkness consumes my soul.
Imbeciles surround me, sitting like vacuous dolls,
Controlled by their hollow, meaningless facades.
Do any of them tell the truth?
Do their words have any real significance?
Or is just the false enthusiasm of the pretenders?

I have told the truth, I have removed my mask;
And what did it earn me?
Endless mockery, scornful epithets, taunting invectives,
Spoken by those who show irrevocable hate towards
Those who are different, who don’t belong.
What am I of consequence to the pretenders?

I stand up abruptly,
My chair is sent flying in my race for retribution and absolution,
The pretenders begin laughing; are they aware of what’s to come?
I laugh sardonically, a chilling peal of bells on a harsh winter day. As I pull the semi-automatic pistol out of my coat pocket,

The pretenders are screaming.

Now they understand.





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IlikeChocolate said...
Sept. 15, 2010 at 9:57 pm
Hey! That was great by the way! Did you by any chance read Nine Minutes by Jodi Picoult? This poem and your comment kind of remind me of it :P
 
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