Cornered Isolation Poem by Michael Walkerjohn

Who, abandoned yesterday?
Allowing fears and prejudice', to
become this retched society's pride…
Whom, are those that remain terrified
and silent, kowtowing to the hatreds
and intentions lent, by the crowing
fowl that scream out for, those not
them; to drop, and rot, and die?
Behind each other, these meek
and mild, and conforming tools
uncouth and hoveringly sly, hide
in that personal isolation bin
where all shallow people lay…
And lie, both to themselves
and to all the members of
community, environment
self-respect; and, therefore
disguise, their fears and
loneliness accrued across
a lifetime's wasted slide…
Those that so do, become undone
they that doubt so, do deny what is being
done; and all that do the doing' done
can knell down here, and kiss my asp!
For the time has come, for those doings done
to be finally, and completely beat down, and eternally done
and for those that offered no spine, no courage, no word, no blood
IAM going to make sure, that you all gag and choke yourselves raw
all the way down, to the bottom of that bottomless pit you call Hell!