The endings around here never really end;
The just go on defensively,
Always supporting themselves and their mundane interest.
They think they are crafty when really,
They are shadows of their own unwillingness to see truer colors,
Or any other aspect other than their own.
Sometimes they are young, sometimes they are aged,
Always they are impossible and belligerent,
Senseless beings languishing in their own pride…
Are the Masses,
And the narrative, seemingly continues.