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I’ll Tweet You All Instead The MM Poetry Collection

Shall we observe how the lynch mobs have now evolved their torture techniques?

Merely, yet only slightly, changed. No longer our bodies, but it’s our hearts and minds that are constrained.

Brutally butchered, hemorrhaging, gasping, grappling for our last breaths of sense.

Made to believe our rights to be wrong — where murder is named civilization and diversity an inconvenient manifestation.

Where the math makes no sense, yet they’re still adding up all their cents.

The numbers never really adding up, unless you’re adding to the padding of the special 1 percent.

It’s no longer our color, but our beliefs they fear, which is why they smile nervously from ear to ear

As they know, fear breeds fear.

Shall I stay austere? Or go back to pushing my thumb and flicking my finger? As my thoughts linger darker than a blues singer.

I need not leave my house, as it abundantly clear; how close we all are, having never really been near.

Oh, how I wish their hearts would produce some tears that might eradicate some of their fears.

How I wish we were truly taught an education, intended for an occupation.

Not aspiring to be wearing all the tags.

Hoping to be in a mags or be the next best hashtag.

Oh, how I might conspire to plot; where lives matter more than power and malevolent thoughts.

Let’s gather, hold hands, and make a circle of peace and love.

No wait,

That won’t work — as we are all too busy, learning how to twerk.

So, let’s ask Google instead, when is it replacing God? And how do I get that banging bod?

No no,

Wait,

Scrap all that; I will Tweet you all instead.

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