Deliberate Observation Poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

Hearsay has its dependency.
Like cults have their addicts.
Regardless who pushes.
And pockets the cash.

Delusions fed to feed them,
Is no different than training...
Mice to ignore cheese,
Where traps are placed.

Yet...
There is always someone,
That comes along...
With a bottle of claimed fine wine.
Traced with just enough poison.
That has addicts, mice...
And others affiliated in various cults,
Praising the taste of the wine.
Believing it devine.
Done to worship and praise,
The master of fraud and deception.

"His followers are being killed.
As if he gets a thrill by it all."

-Is that observation of yours deliberate?
And if so...
You don't seem at all disappointed.-

"I came up with the recipe.
And I love the reaction he gets from it."

-But...
Aren't you permitting to allow yourself,
To be associated to his demented crimes.
You're just as guilty as he is of murder.
This kind of loyalty has its price to pay.-

"Nnnnooo Waaay! ?
How much?
Give me an estimate."

-Lots.
And the closer you are to the evidence,
More notorious your life becomes.-

"Book deals?
Movies?
Status to have it? "

-Prison!
And time spent,
Being bended over.
In private invited showers.-

"Hmmm...
'Invited Private Showers'.
I'll make that the title,
Of my first book."

-Here's another one for you,
'How Low Down Can One Dumbdowned Get'? -

"NAW!
Not too much there to imagine.
Not enough...
To feel it or visualize."

-What has happened to the minds of the people? -

"Who are you talking to?
Why are you looking up like that? "

-God! -

"Oh!
But know this,
There will be no references...
About religion or political affiliations,
In my book."