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A Person inside the Idiot Box
A doll of mud
Halcyon smiles
Of synthetic vim,
Glacial tears
Devoid of empathy
What are you?
My jaws grind
As your voice cracked
With the lousy static
What a farce slapstick.
You are a fraud
Stealing hearts
All the hasty pounding,
All the famished breaking,
And despite of the grandeurs
Of your personal convictions
It is out shadowed
By the flashes
Of fame and puppetry
Your life, or death,
Is the people's amusement.
A doll mud.
A victim.
A prey.
poem
by
Norman Santos
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