Churn bio repetition, stupid is the
Heart, birth those screaming weapons, that
Irritate the chart, which constantly re-writes a
List; where everything’s for them, massaging such
Division, that censors all again, bullish brats do
Ravage, every single road, but they
Escape their justice; when the law is told, thus;
Neonates; are little hates; the future’s looking dim, no-brainer reproductions, makes our faults; our thing!
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Author:
AuburnScribbler (
Offline) - Published: August 26th, 2026 09:29
- Comment from author about the poem: Now, I know; that I am somewhat known for my "dim view, bad class report" like poetic hot takes on our species, but when I read this one back, this plucked a particular dissonant, yet blatantly obvious, yet; accurately woeful chord. Of course, not all kids are bad, it clearly depends on how they are brought up, and thus; good judicious choices by the parents, who are supposed to be good guides to their little ones, should encourage them the child to judicious; in order to blossom to be their own special kind of person. However, sadly for most, it seems to be a putrid case of a lazy, callous cut-copy-paste culture from "ready", but really "unready couples"; generation in; generation out, that perpetuates a much more to be desired conduct of humanity as a species. Thus; all over the place you have "little tearaways" who get away with everything, as such sub-par behaviour has become the norm, not only for the kids but for a moronic multitude of adults too! With this in mind, I give you this thought provoking acrostic poem about these "savage scamps", who really need a good telling off, in order to save the future of our kind! I hope that you take something from this poem, and even enjoy it if you can, particularly if you happen to be a parent, because we really do have to make this thing called life work, by becoming a better species, so that we can treat each other and the planet we call home better. As always, please do stay safe in the madness everyone! P.S. I have just relaised, when you turn the poem on its side, ninety degrees right, it does somewhat resemble either a lollipop, or a rattle, the symbol of the quintessential child.
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 4
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