craft fear

this is not a test, and it will go down on your permanent record.

sirens wail, sounds of alarm encompassing just under half of us

the mob mentality in majority rules imposed, not followed.

and all of those transgressions and blemishes we all commit to-

your soul forever logged in the transcripts of your life without consent

what happens next for you and them is a matter of hidden public interest.

but how you feel about it is decidedly between you and your god[s],

and if you're lucky enough, the Jones' won't want to keep up with you.

while they sleep, your secrets come out to play and you hope nobody sees.

because what would the neighbors say if the only knew what you are doing?

how quickly the fickle crowd turns on you too, brandishing pitchforks,

and carrying lynches- coming for you with blind daggers in their eyes.

uncompromising fire from their lips- burn your heart and leave you singed-

just a stone's throw away from shattering the glass home we all share.

life wasn't meant to be a competition; but now that it is, nobody can win it.