This poem fits neatly
Inside an Instagram panel
It isn’t deep, although it
Feigns depth and wisdom
It says you’re not an ignorant,
Entitled, hateful little shit
It pretends that you are perfect
Just the way you are
This poem will likely
Be very popular
©2025 Kevin Trent Boswell
It will not matter,
What you do or do not
For soon, swift death
Will sweep through the land
Scooping you up onto
The back of its white horse,
The reaper throttles you
With its cold, bony hand
©2025 Kevin Trent Boswell
If they decide that you’re made of fire,
Pristine, glorious, and bright
Then they will insist that you burn
So that you may offer them light
If they believe that you are perfect,
And with you, they cannot compete,
They’ll make you a god, a dying one
To warm themselves by your heat
If you represent in their minds
Something they could never become,
They will set you ablaze in the night;
To the flames, watch you succumb
©2025 Kevin Trent Boswell
Yes, my dear,
You’re exactly like God
You’re exactly like God
In the following way
You demand to be worshipped,
With no return on investment
And you angrily smite those
Who don’t bow and pray
Yes, my dear,
You’re just like the Divine
You’re like the Divine,
And the way I can tell
Is that I walked away
From it, and from you
And having done so,
I’m no longer in hell
©2025 Kevin Trent Boswell
I’d rather my heart
Be repeatedly broken
Than allow my heart
To be turned into stone
I’d rather be alone
Than be with a liar
To be with a liar
Is to be truly alone
©2025 Kevin Trent Boswell
by Kevin Trent Boswell available on Amazon
Now available on Amazon
