Hamstrung
A Poem
These words, this screen and everything in between leaves me so hamstrung
A gallery of squawk unable to walk the walk so they distill their complaints into fabrications and exaggerations in order to sell another widget
What plays is what sells and memberships ring bells loud ones like the squeaky wheel waiting in line for its grease never content with just peace
Why spill words into a black hole that can subsume itself at any time regardless of verse or rhyme After all, capitalism is king and everyone should kiss the ring
I need to write with blinders on so the shine from the screen doesn’t blind me for good from all the feelings I get when I let my words free
These words, this screen and everything in between leaves me so hamstrung
© Jonathan Greene 2020
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