An I Am a Facebook protester Poem
I am here to be a thorn for the moment
in return for spending 12 years drawing millions to this Fib-on site
that sold out to the Bid-on a Kommi crowd who love to troll my posts
and act like ducks on a firing range when we were kids,
with unlimited bb’s to point out their trolldom ways,
expose and kill the Lakota Lore snake with the venom of the snake
as Wii take and use the same tools applied against us
to beat them to the ground.
No need to censor some things said in cryptic fashions peacefully pledged.
Through the Fantasy land of misspelled words that AI and those
who can not read more than ten multisyllabic words in a row,
not knowing the English language that well,
and thus being left dumbed by the massive content,
the potential for hidden meanings lost in wordiness
connotations or denotations,
or intellectual ladders few can climb,
like poetry in the days of King James
and the rewriting of the Bible using mass media,
acquiring all of the Gutenberg presses which were taken
with chopped-off heads and hands for receipts
to be sure no other but the King James version of the Bible
and Hell would then be learned, accepted, and followed
for hundreds of years… regardless of the lack of Truth,
Honor, or the original intentions like words of Jesus.
Ooops, details again.
Darby, that fictional writer who composes
these little packages of word wizardry for the literate,
hopes you, like the censors understand,
this is fiction my friends, and all names,
similar possible identities, and realities are all just art…
with words, dirt, wood, salvage, and imagination.
Savor the days.
Did you get that? hehe