Aberration - 2012/07/29

Never mind the swath of pain
For which the rest have paid
Money hungry jesters walking
On a path to hell fools laid

Sprinting and somersaulting
Their antics so entertaining
Even though masses grow weary
As practical appeal is fading

Not even the assorted baubles
Always masquerading as prizes
Hold any real intrinsic value
Despite their shiny disguises

Bellies rumbling lips parched
Yet the judges truly care not
As they exist only to measure
Anything which matters naught

We do not even pick our teams
Attached to one through birth
So join this useless festival
Trading truth for empty mirth

Ignore those prevailing winds
Evidence the world is turning
Dismiss dark smoke you inhale
As its only the world burning

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