But For

People always asking me to write them symphonies

But people only giving me some straight up agony

That ain’t a win for me

But a loss

A parasitic relationship 

Not a toss

Up

But a sure fired way to lose

Myself in a moment without refuse

Without refuge

No diffuse

Sing that situation

But becoming a decoration

For an orchestra 

Of surgery

Dissected by thoughts

Of a clergy

Of men

Unforgiving

And greedy

Needy

Spiteful

And despicable 

They stand over 

Stomping on 

The people below

Steel toed

Though

Those men, women, children

Young and elderly

Stand strong

Like a bundle

Not a twig

Resisting the depression

Recession

Oppression

Of many words that stroll

Over scrolls

On lit up screens

Our technology

A vehicle of construction

Destruction

The end

Comes in the form of a noose

Loose

Around the neck

Of that person

Turned ceiling fan puppet

Who was beat down

By the pulpit

Of the culprit 

Named conformity 

Who’s minions spewed insults and stress 

But for what?

One noose can’t hang two

But one death kills more than a few

As families mourn

And friends cry

Leaving bullies to try

To be less animalistic 

Sadistic.

If that.