Imploding In Their Conditioned Positions Poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

Falling to pieces!
Quicker.
Faster.
Than anyone can remember,
Who Bo Peeped.
Or if creeps were involved,
With the fleecing of Mary's little lamb.
Or the padlocking of Mother Hubbard's house,
After stealing her homemade jam.

Falling to pieces!
Quicker.
Faster.
Than Jack and Jill,
Going up a hill...
To fetch a pail of tainted water.

Now everyone is looking down.
To discover anything on the ground,
Worthy to pawn!
After mentally being slaughtered,
By deceit nursed by thieves going on...
Discreetly allowed to do their crimes.
As those mumble in their fumbling,
To find reason and rhyme in trying times.
And ripe...
For an imploding,
In their conditioned positions...
To occur!