howl

digressing by a fault at its own means
I’ve seen the best minds of my generation thrown aside
for the wrongs of who they or the problem children they’ve made,
for being one who strays from Barbie’s way or dwindles the line dividing criminal from sane.
intention has turned into corrupted minds, so helpless in their bared cells of avoidance,
of shrunken privilege placed in cluster like the dead
empty of the correctional facilitation claimed on sign
dropped where society doesn’t have to confront a problem’s head,
doesn’t have to magnify the variables held on stilts of poor backgrounds
that reek of blows to the body and venom seeping by a piercing injection to the mind,
of neglect and manless one-showed households,
of pressure by the scentless gases of competition bonds that have clogged our senses
only to inhale fire, to breath out flame,
of weightless pockets and stolen bank-accounted identities
of imbalanced role models whose impressions diverge their children into nurture’s trenches