Smile poor devil with the warmth of an Arctic breeze
Spew your clever, empty verses onto a crowd of sheep
Handlers know worlds more than you ever will
They pull your designer strings, thankfully
Show the world your on-cue indignation
Reason? No need – cherished cameras are rolling
When all the questions are dodged
And all mud is eloquently slung
Judge the odds of ever seeing heaven
Then convince your reflection of a comforting lie.
Will you hold your dark secrets and unpleasant thoughts?
Are you the unremarkable, expendable joke?
Of course, you are.
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