1The Lone Clone.

An art is made

Of masking words

The big, blaring, and blasphemous

Smothered in pillows

Courteous quiet

Exchanging honesty

For polite lies.

Hush, child

You will soon succumb

To the way of suits

And ties. Euphemisms,

And lies. No need to

Shout!

Expression is dead.

Be objective

Not creative.

Neutrality will save us.

How crude to be

Different. Play safe,

Individuality,

Will be the end.