Wriggling In My Wicked Willows Poem by John Sensele

I tip scales to gain puny popularity
Oblivious of the planet's independence
That increases or decreases in sapience celerity
No matter my support for its offence or defence.

I tip scales in proportion to my wickedness
Believing I gain traction or distraction
Whether I spread sadness or gladness
Promoting for me repulsion or attraction.

I tip scales to risk my social sphere
Treating seniors and juniors with contempt
Jerking and jiving in the insanity stratosphere
Where I perform below average in my asinine attempt.

I tip scales when I blow and sow confusion
Boasting the world rotates at my pleasure
Because I preach behind the scenes division
So vile my bile turns greener beyond measure.