T'Was The Night Prior To The Real Nightmare Poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

Failed concepts...
Are diminishing by the minute.
And those who are in it,
Have to sit and finish them off!

T'was the night prior to the real nightmare.
People were sunbathing without a thought or care!
Mockings of inner city people were good and well done!
And out of the blue,
Bird doo hit the head of someone,
And he became startled, baffled and stunned!
Was that the bird of truth?
His nervousness begun!

People stopped listening to him like they should.
He sent in fresh missionaries to keep the 'hood' good!
He took away the alcohol from his kids...
Took away their weapons,
Although they had some hid from him they did!

He spoke to his pastor...
Who was also his lawyer,
Banker and baker of his bread!
He didn't know what to say,
About his dread.

And it was dreadful!

He tried his best,
To provide for everyone.
By selling the land,
Running it!
And racking up bills as he ran,
As far as he could from reality!

And now he wants to be perceived,
As the one most willing...
To piece together a portrait of universal love!
And this...
Will be yet another,
Failed concept!
Laid out on the table....
From a chair he sits that is much too big!

Failed concepts...
Are diminishing by the minute.
And those who are in it,
Have to sit and finish them off!

Failed concepts...
Are diminishing by the minute.
And those who are in it...
Are no closer to an exit,
Than the first exit plan they claim...
Would win the game!

Failed concepts...
Are diminishing by the minute.
And those who are in it
Must do something quick,
Or sit and be finished off!

T'was the night prior to the real nightmare...
People were sunbathing without a thought,
And none dared to care.
Until out of no where...
Strange Beings appeared.
With pierced skin and tattoos from toe to ear.
They were quite drugged,
And their focus wasn't clear.
But they began to stalk...
In growing numbers.
Surrounding those...
In numbing fear!