The Beehive And The Coalmine Poem by Mason Maestro

The typewriter sits under candlelight
Keys are aglow shining left to write
The scribes do choose to ink the mind
The scribes do muse to think confined

Contracts, treaties, taxes, deeds
Censuses, trade logs, all record needs
Papyrus, parchment, ivory, bark
Tablets, wood pulp, each took the mark
The scribes do choose to ink the mind
The scribes do muse to think confined

Is it allah, shiva, buddah, yourself
Osiris, poseidon, any shrine on the shelf
Offer pardon, redemption, a penance? No!
Save He who supplanted commandments on stone

The Bible, Koran, Newsweek's weeklies
The Torah, the Vedas, Origin of Species
Library of godless peer-reviewed queers
Certified blueprints for jammed gears
The scribes do choose to ink while blind
The scribes pen views with soul consigned

QWERTY on the keyboard
Fifty each minute
The hammers jam up
Another typo in it
Beehive and a coalmine
Allegory of a cave
Bring in a canary
The only one who's brave
But I show you no weakness
May just mock you with words
Scorch with reproach
derided and roached
Nearing page bottom we must adjourn
When the line goes too long, please hit return
Is it fiction or diction, novel or saga
Real news or fake? The truth stands with MAGA

Oh, how scribes choose to ink the mind
How scribes are much too confined