Yes it has, and admittedly;
Come to pass unpredictably,
Every blade of grass is far from green,
No matter how fast I rearrange things.
In a palsied flash I see everything,
I cry and I laugh at what it all means,
Hope gets smashed to smithereens,
a high-speed crash into humanity.
A skinned carcass hung out and withering,
A trophy the champion left disintegrating,
A nothing that no one recalls quite clearly,
Something hung limply at the end of a string.
Yes it does, and quite totally;
blows my mind dumbfoundedly,
spends my time confoundedly,
by stinging my eyes perpetually.
But the tears I produce don’t mean anything,
just another excuse to curse the deities,
my tongue’s gotten loose and lashed back at me,
for speaking the truth in the face of mendacity.