Predictive programming strikes once again,
On the Resident Evil save screen back then.
A newspaper article stating lockdown 2040,
I find these witchcraft spells rather naughty.
A new fear after 2039 and ringing in this year,
We're prodded insects trying to dodge a spear.
None of these outbreaks seem natural in the slightest,
Like they are created in labs purposely, I do detest.
Social credit score systems have silenced dissent,
Every law meant to be righteous, in their favour it's bent.
False hope is a written script that's recited up on stage,
The antichrist spirit will fall but unfortunately rules this age.
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Author:
Shaunmatthewcpoetry (
Offline) - Published: May 26th, 2026 04:11
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 24
- Users favorite of this poem: Tristan Robert Lange, Carlos Alberto BUSTILLOS

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Comments3
Dystopian in nature this poem is dark and predictive of future downfall but ultimately has a brighter aspect. Nicely written
Thank you.
You are most welcome
Aww, E.T. would have to go back home in a lockdown. lol.
Definitely lol.
Shaun, “We’re prodded insects trying to dodge a spear” is the line that really grabbed me here. It’s chaotic, anxious, and dehumanizing in exactly the way the poem wants to feel. That image lingers long after the read. Powerful piece, my friend. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
Thanks pal.
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