Servitude

You can tell an American the ruth but you can't make it think.

School was an unpleasant necessity fpr me because I had no reason or desire to remember anything. The old church on the corner was a bleak relic a tombstone to sanctimonious Christianity. The blaring sound of a bugle announced the start of another day of indoctrination and organised tedium. Lined up like soldiers on parade we were marched to classrooms to the rhythmic rattle of kettle drums. In my final year I hated the teacher who placed me in the row of dunces and used me to clean the schoolyard.

An image in a picture frame is someone's memory that will never die.

Uncertainty beguiles with the religion of deception.

Getting high in a half-world when bliss retreats behind sadness and where reality wrestles with reason.

The silence of solace anticipates threats that inevitably beckon.

The presidential pretension of an election money v money.

A suppurating open wound infested with maggots.

The irrationality of rage is as logical as lunacy.

It's much easier to accept than deny a lie.

An autopsy showed the bloated corpse of capitalism died of greed corruption and self-indulgence.

An extensive probe by NASA has failed to discover any sign of heaven in our galaxy or beyond where it may have got swallowed by a black hole or exploded many light years ago as a star which is why nobody is there to hear your prayers.

The truth is invariably hidden behind a lie.

Sacred and holy places exist as human follies where prayers evaporate in the air.

Vainglorious vanity advertises a desire to be admired as an illusion of virtuous reality.

Shadows of deception obscure the light of reason that shines behind a facade of fantasy.

A beginning means the end of something.