The Dominis Poem by Michael Walkerjohn

Such is this thought, of all things thus bought,
material things, emotional needs, self-respect;
humanity today is wrought, from birth
until nature, accident, or incident;
sets your soul free from your peonage,
your prison, your ragged lifetime begot;
by this illusion that you are free…
humanity's imagination, gleaned
from ideals on scripted pages,
begs from this universe an answer;
to the how and why of such deception,
and rejection, and inflection,
that minimizes the quality and worth of each being;
sequesters each special seed,
diminishes every opportunity given,
to each and every one of US sent
into this liars den of touts and thieves;
through ideals and thoughts,
to this blithe reality tossed,
that dreams indeed are nothing else
than a cherry less butt…
that nasty bugger picked and flicked,
into the face of the weakest one at school;
such fools believe, ideals behoove all of US,
onto the highest and most lofty deeds;
reality perceived is myth now lived,
for its braggarts, and beggars,
and hind end lickers,
that for a price precede to succeed,
causing honesty and truth to bleed;
red to black, upon the flesh
of the innocent and the weak,
and how these paid touts so smile,
at the chaos they willingly wreak;
all for a bit of valueless paper…
there then is reality flexed,
the pungent stool plopped into
these touts pursed and puckering lips;
gobbled greedily each drop pled bit,
as their Dominis takes his daily shit.!