Sadly, I only managed one today. The muse wasn't very cooperative and I wasn't feeling it today. The PA prompt was to write either a 'leader' poem or a 'follower' poem. I chose to write a leader poem.
Led to false redemption
A line of temptation laid out
pushed them all to the basement,
one by one, their impressionable
naive brains fell for the lines
of some sort of redemption from
a white haired prophet who gave
them excuse after excuse to
keep spiraling down the path to
something far from self awareness,
and not terribly far from Jonesian,
just missing the spiked Kool-Aid.
He drew out their vulnerabilities,
with the help of his guitar strumming
minions, and the tears poured and
the embraces and symbolism masked
any sense of reality each of them
would be smacked with on Monday
morning down sterile school hallways.
Those retreats, those stupid chunks
of wood on crappy black strings,
the singing for meals, the talks
that did nothing to mold them and
everything to shield them from the
reality that not everything was ok,
led some of them to give up breathing.
He wasn't a leader, but an