I am very finicky, as you may have picked up from prior entries. I am so straitlaced about the neatness of my writing notebook that I write ideas and poems in pencil in case if I don't like it, I don't have to rip it out or cross anything out.
I'm posting this one because I realized I never did, and I need to place it in this database of sorts.
"Shorthand"
"A secret handshake.
The lights all burned out.
Shadow silhouettes grace concrete.
Bombs blew the buildings down,
and tanks ravaged the streets.
Panic bunkers soared to the thousands.
A mouth trembles.
Giving illegal law.
We're all frauds, it's eminent.
His face is a pleading one.
A front sucking away at your humanity.
Your freedom.
Hands latched together.
Symbolic defiance.
Outlawed love.
What a silly thought.
Rights to mind? Love? Freedom?
Madness. Insanity.
Two unstable beings.
Caught in the act.
Kicked into the van.
Be gone.
You do not belong to you.
Your conscience is ours.
You'll never have existed.
Your skin will peel.
Your emotion in a pill shaped form.
The one you want, dead."
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