Hobnobbing Minions
How many minions, I wonder, are out there?
I read the signs and their narcissistic prayer.
Some feel righteous and hallowed indeed.
Preaching their hapless sanctimonious creed.
Ecstatic euphoria, stripped from backs of others.
Would you act this way in front of your mothers?
Shame on you! People are suffering and dying.
Your petulant demeanor is crass and mystifying.
More good poets are leaving because of you swots.
They're isolated indoors, stomachs tied in knots.
Emerging to read your vile comments and mobbing.
Your arrogance is fielded. Minions stop hobnobbing.
Copyright © Mark Koplin | Year Posted 2020
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment