poetry by j matthew waters

the next conspiracy

not one generation will be spared
everyone has their skeletons
whether they know it or not

there’s no such thing as white lies
not as long as they keep piling on
the higher they stack up
the deeper the digging goes

bets are placed underground
bit players unknown to you & me
some of them conspiring
to rule the world
the remainder taking a number

april two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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