Disorder Of A Slaughter Poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

Applauded.
Entertained by it and cheered.
An order.
To slaughter.
Mentalities driven to insanity.
Deranged.
In a disorderly.
Disobeying way.

What is this poison fed?
Accepted.
To make many lose their minds.
Severed.
From thoughtless and useless heads.
Deadened.
By a hollow image.
Allowed to dupe, trick and fraud.
Without benefit at all.
To see it. Believe it.
Or near the horizon to appear.

Yet...
Loved.
Applauded.
Entertained by it and cheered.
To hear an order to slaughter.
Their own conscious mentalities.
In a disorderly disobeying way.
That leaves them crazed.
And apparently left to crave,
The distaste of it.

"It's...
A color thing."

-It's a what thing? -

"The image.
And what to it,
One's skin color brings! "

-You can not be serious? -

"I wish I wasn't.
But that is the time,
This time is.
Mentally chaotic.
And marketed to profit from it."

-By who or what? -

"Losers deluded.
And refusing to believe,
Their corruption to feast on fraud...
Has come to the end.
Of hearing the cheering and applause."