Little King of Sorrows

Ode To The Sheeple - Poem by Little King of Sorrows

Someone help me!
I've lost sight of any reason to write about this toilet bowl of life.
Who gives a crap? We all do it appears. So when the shit-stained papers we flush away build up and murky waters of the most rancid of odors flood back our way, who is to blame? Did we not all contribute the wasted remains of our gluttonous consumption? Do we demand investigation of the un-desirable contents as to who's mess caused the most blockage? Shall we sit and stare at this ses-pool of filth with arms crossed in defiant pride and do nothing? I bid thee NO! ! ! Though you all may live contently by shutting the door and forgetting the bacteria and disease-laden horror around the corner and out of mind, I cannot! ! ! One man, one mop. The sanitary conviction of my soul leads me forth into battle. When you awake, I shall be gone with nothing but the sparkiling white porcelain to remind you of me. For this world is drowning in the feces of injustice and there is much cleaning to do.

© 2013 L.K.Sorrows

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Poem Submitted: Saturday, January 26, 2013

Poem Edited: Tuesday, March 12, 2013

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