Relationships, Policy, And Politics Poem by Michael Walkerjohn

You and Me?
What matters
about the truth?
Do you treat yourself
as others treat the truth?
Are you so forth gone that
you are tripping over all truth?
Does your policy on truth speak
such truth as your politicking?
Does your truth's policy frolic
in such nonsense to becoming
as a pun to common sense?
As an individual, is your truth
subjective, being fruitful and multiplying
within in a proficient level of principal that is
deciding, decipherable, contagious and delightful?
Does your truth do all, show all, duel all; or is your truth
sequestered and considered as a prequel without equal not
too unique until that which matters decides it is worth a sequel?
IAM creating equally, for all truths waiting patiently, for each
seeker calling out to me for the human species, willingly to be
freed from such a minority wishing to annihilate the entirety of
life's living tree; this immoral specimen, those some ones whom
detest all there is to men and women and children learning
appreciation of such a destiny where destruction is a
distant memory, and building proficiency and literacy
and changing humankind's history from absolute
misery to that which is soon to be pushing
back this current phase of punishing
psychotic debauchery to that ever
present and most conveniently
understood "curb" paralleling every
lane and road and street; kicked there by
little old me, for the garbage men to scrape
sack, bag, and treat, as any style of useless verbiage
once idolized by roiling mobs of miscreants and sycophants
and drones and drools and callus fools clinging to society's
rules each fearing him and her, they and them, she or me or
simply each another's individuality… explain clearly to
me, what is there ever to be, of such as you and me?