Status
poem by e.e.cane
Jan. 25, 2021
God-favored status
—who wouldn’t listen?
Being ridden by the
pontiff tiara-wearing self-appointed
is simply a reflection of human design
Leadership, control-stirring their
kettle of sorrows until fear bubbles up,
bottling that under pressure—surely to fizz
when opened, but by then
the money has already changed hands
The pious allow just enough knowledge,
but not enough to overcome
the fear they instill
The awakening crowd finds themselves
lost with nothing to replace their ignorance
They quickly seek and accept the
first plausible from someone who’s pontiff
hat is just being fitted
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