False Prophets


My dark god

standing in front of our feeble minds

as He feeds us brainless material

over the matter of

civil rights.


But nothing seems civil about this.


And He preaches these

moss-grown hopes

of histories past,

but we will never understand why.


Teach us,

For once,

What we need to know

to survive this hell called




Fuck education. Teach me something substantial.

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741