Getting Extremely Difficult

Getting extremely difficult it is,
For anyone to listen...
To another defending,
Their kept position to protect...
A life to live despising,
Truth.
And all that truth represents.
With this unaware consciousness,
Effectively getting...
Support and endorsement.
Along with twice the attention,
The absence of common sense is given.

Getting extremely difficult it is,
For anyone knowing...
Anything about what having sanity means.
To notice it once,
Having value and dependable.
Without it to flaunt.
Yet today?
It seems fashionable to display,
As much craziness as one wants.
And doing it done in public shown,
Can be used to accuse and blame...
On stress, less fiction to delude reality.
With others daring to claim,
They also are entitled to be treated...
Equally as human beings.

'Can you believe these times today we live?
I actually heard a panhandler,
Tell a policeman...
If not earlier to be treated,
With a cup of coffee and glazed donut.
It would be the panhandler,
Making it 'his' civic duty to perform the arrest.
But left his credentials,
In one of his penthouses.
Near Columbus Circle.
While feeding the pigeons...
He met and knew for years.
From his visits to Central Park.'

'Incredible are the lies told today.'

'I thought so too!
Until this pigeon appeared from nowhere,
With the panhandler's driver's license.
Carried between its beak.
And...
Had a picture on it to verify the proof.'

'Lies!'

'Lies?
How can you say that?
I only smoke three joints,
Before I saw it happen.
And...
All of sudden the cop reminded me,
Of The Three Stoogies.
So...
I asked him which one he was.'

'Gotta go.
I've heard enough.'

'Don't you want to know which one he was?'

'Rudolph?'

'Close.
He told me, Dopey.'

'No.
He called 'you' DOPEY!'

'Stop making up stuff!'