They hanged you
Sold your memories
Encased your desires
Beaten you off your path
And for what?

Just to make a decent buck

Why is it easy to commit heresy
And follow troubadours
That tell tall tales
And politically incorrect
Incoherent facts and figures
Stating their opinions
Offending anyone without
Another thought to their name

Just to make a profit

And when we write about it
Living to tell a tale of our own
We are rebutted
Rejected
Secondhand thinking trumping our own
Initial thoughts
Whether out loud
Or pen to paper
Keyboard
Any way you write it
consequences
Dire but silently
Nobody tells you truth
Until you find out for yourself
Big mistake?
"What difference does it make?"
It's too late
Your fate
Sealed in the Crystalized Crimson
Blood of your opposing viewpoints
The choices you once made
Tainted in innocence

Just to salivate their own bounty