
My silence is a clenched jaw
Which bites back a toxic tongue
That would lash and rage
At the blind consumption
And desperate throes of a dying world
——
Desperate throes called ‘dancing’
By the senseless dying dolls
That amble out ambitions
On cardboard cutout stages
Who play out their pain
in pull-cord affirmations
and ready-made roles
Dressed up in factory fabrics
——
My silence is grating teeth that grimace
A heartless grin at the vibrant dream
Of the deaf and dying dolls
Who cannot hear the hollow
Hollow echoes of their chorus
Who cannot see when shown
The asinine assembly line
That feeds their pretty lie.
——
My silence is a smile
Which filters harsh truths
Into kind courtesies and soft rebukes
——
About the Creator
Judah LoVato
My collection of sometimes decent writing
Which I've left "there" for seekers to seek
Though I lack the grandeur of that Pirate King
Perhaps these pebbles can be a light
In this life, this laughing tale



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