Under A Bus Crushed

Don't tell me.
Don't tell me what it is I think I see.
I see but can not believe.
Don't tell me.'

'Okay!'

Ladies and gentlemen.
So many these days,
Can not.
Will not.
And dare not face their own mistakes.

Difficult it is being challenged.
On a daily basis.
By those trained and limited,
With minds they claim...
To be conscious.
Although living within restrictions.
Awaiting...
For their next thought to think.
Done not to question.
But to perform whatever the activity.

Ladies and gentlemen.
And those these days...
Wanting their cake frosted,
In chocolate, vanilla.
Or a rainbow flavored lemonade.
Doing what they can,
To awaken others...
Hypnotized to please,
Deceivers who leave...
Them under a bus left crushed.
Let it be known as you have shown,
No stupidity to prove it...
Is worth remaining loyal to anyone,
Baptizing their followers...
In a cesspool of stench.
Yet...
Believe they do and defend,
They have been 'touched'...
By the genius of one chosen!

'Uh...
Don't tell me.
They are not awaiting in this line,
To lay down and be crushed by it!'

'Okay.'

'Okay?
Okay...what?'

'May your eyes lie to you,
For the rest of your life.
And may your truth,
Remain scented...
As if bubblegum.
Leaving you to imagine if chewed...
Your bubbles blown,
Will dance around you.
Singing...
The 'Twelve Days Of Christmas'.'

'And...
Santa?
Santa Claus?'

'The bus driver.
Disguised.
As a bus driver.
Welcoming you to crawl under.
For the thrill of your life.