As finally I do goodbye … you.

When we are converted, digitally

Into sideshow, rigidly

And our pain becomes us, beautiful

And nothing is left us, but rueful

Then I tell you, my dear

That disaster: it creeps near.

For our society, pious

Out of piety, jealous

Does envy too much, poorly

The poverty, richly:

That awful dreadful, undeserving

Unable to cast aside, the sideshow.

And so its time draws a sail, tacking

Forth and back, as sack

Borne on burdened soul, rolling

In a life of unsortings, multitudinous

Or maybe, passively:

That’s mutinous, and just as just.

And just as just ever was, only

Or indeed wasn’t, fierce:

Like pastry of change, true

A crescent moon, tragic

If only am magic, just saying

As finally I do goodbye … you.

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