I am an altered fact,
so are you,
we only exist in a state of comfortable
despair because the very rich,
the very stupid
and the unfathomably popular
allow us to be there to be struck off,
one by one, in a crowd, sniper guns
pounding coins
whilst they hoard pounds,
guarding the brain cells that give them power
but dementia like poise and dying cells
they release the ones that guide
compassion, hope and love
and they somehow infect us with promises