Fake Noose

I’ve forgotten all
the titles I am
entitled
to
reject.

I’ve forgotten all
the storybooks I’d get
lost in one
weekend to
the
next.

Yes, there was a fairy tale but it was all to no avail, thanks to villains more valued than peaceful idols.

We put
faith in the
most
maniacal of
creators;

is it any
surprise it has
the tact of the child?

And so we
grew up,
dysfuction
intact,
governed by loosely
interpretated versions of
the facts.

Rock
bottom
launchpads
into catapults
that fired right back,

there’s really nowhere left to go but down.

I’ve forgotten how
profane those
once upon
a times
could be,

twisted words of
the revered mundane;
but remember
all attempts at
the ever after,
breaks in
contunuity of our
own disastrous dialogues.

I forgot my
heart and only
stone organs
advance the
discombulated
plot,

personified in
the
footprints of
have-nots.

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