They sighed, "The Good die young"
I say, "The good are sacrificial scapegoats"
Yes, I am one of them
Oh, No I "was" one of them.
I was nosy and noisy "They' told me
I should have been quite
when I had my chance.
'They' wailed, " thegood die young"
But then 'they' told me I should have
kept the blindfolds on, let the freakshow entertain multitude
of eyes glued to their blue screens
For, the world likes to wallow in their
it is not my calling to ignite their souls ,
To jolt them out of their trance
They wrapped a loop around my neck
Tightened the noose and dangled me from the beam like a
They sucked my blood dry and gnawed on my bones like
finally, a sad familiar circus.
"They' told the world that I was living a lie and my name was
double standards, "They' went on tarnishing my sanity
Painting my mind dark black red
They narrated the usual mind rotting story,
branded my soul clinically depressed,
that I was too caught up in my own fame
The plot was perfect
Too perfect like all other "plots."
The long prescriptions strewn
with antidepressants, a history of cyberbullying,
hate stories wafted from the
A gut wrenching climax,
Like gasoline to this raving inferno
My phantom of a gospel
A philosophy tainted
to save this "Gotham" of a society
was yet again another staged
melodrama of lies
'They' scattered my charred bones To the wind
and fucking RIP
And a ramble on mental wellness
and some third rate sympathies.
My soul shattering truth spiraled
in the bottomless pit of the "so called media"
As a charade of an attention seeking whore
"My truth was unpleasant,
That it burned the conscience
Of the world, their world,
The world loves to entertain and to be entertained
in this sacrificial ritual of scapegoats
to appease the matrix demigods"
Another hunt, another scapegoat on the noose.
The game is on.