Crash the observatory,
Mind their eyes,
For the ways they watch ones die.
A hanged high schooler on the phone with his girlfriend,
Another splattering his final thoughts on the wall,
At least he pulled the trigger short of the lunch hall.
His timing indicated alternative scenarios,
Proof that child died alive.
What happens here is something other than enlightenment,
Dumpster picnic scenes.
Even the Rasul called it a spectacle,
A fetid festival of illusory enjoyment.
What happens here is something other than life.
The herdsman knows it,
As do we,
But he seems not to understand our predicament.
She sold us out.
To watch reruns.
We see the shadows of those,
False wills upon our walls,
WIth a spin,
In ignorance of the All.
We want justice, Roma.