(February/'47 / Connecticut, USA)

Their Own Way Of Life

Decadence does not undecandent itself.
Overnight.
Or enlighten those to brush themselves up,
To sparkle gleamy and bright...
As if to Spring clean.
That is not a part of their insight.
Or will ever be detected.

A faltered conspiracy,
Comes to infest...
Those who have digressed,
With an unexpected outcome!

That which has been inflicted...
Sits now on the backs of those who conspired,
To plot and plant their contrived manipulations...
With an affect that diseases their own blood.
Their own way of life.
Their own survival!

And they can not see it...
Because they were raised to bait hate!
And make claims they can no longer pay for now.
Leaving those they had segregated from,
Wishing for them to stay away.
And feed from their own resources.

'They will never be able to survive doing that! '

~They've been told they can do anything they please.
Even ruin themselves on their own propaganda.~

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