The ludicrous facade that’s royalty!
By Stanley Collymore
In actuality there is no such thing
as royalty or simply being royal
truthfully, other than allowing
one’s self to be taken in by this delusional
concept contrived by those who’ve either
self– servingly or else subordinately and
fawningly fashioned, in their rather sick
and puerile minds, a quite euphemistic
and sycophantic construct for actually
being entitled, undoubtedly elitist, and
intransigently superior but in actuality
discernibly highly subjective personal
acclamations not really based on any
distinctively-outstanding; specifically
and crucially, objectively demarcated
or basically verifiable capabilities: as
clearly, very invariably they’re always
none– attendant elaborately, with an
exaggeratedly absolutely misplaced
notion, of that very specific person’s
haughtily perceived, and inalienable
entitlement to a simply significantly
overprivileged lifestyle undoubtedly
without any obstacles or permitted
complaints regarding such actually
imprudent but worthless existence,
from those literally unquestionably
designated by these same exalted
beneficiaries, as obviously inferior;
and, at best, quite benign subjects,
but quite customarily all the same,
as disposable serfs and plebeians.
(C) Stanley V. Collymore
8 May 2024.
Author's Remarks:
I’ve purposely rather decided, not to write any remarks on this poem, although there are obviously plenty of them I could have appropriately employed; but there’s an old Barbadian saying, that when endemically ingrained idiots with evidently no likely or possible intention, even remotely on their part obviously, of ever inculcating reason, and regrettably also are discernibly in the majority, there’s nothing sensibly really to gain, by effectively distinctively espousing commonsense or reason to any of them.
And with Britain literally disastrously and similarly increasingly inundated with the dregs of numerous European pogroms and, of course, its now asininely sanctified European holocaust lot, but simply only for one set of supposedly worthwhile victims and their kind, actually firmly coupled with a most unbelievably rather wholeheartedly and obviously financially induced welcome into Britain of the very discernibly odiously evil lowlifes who’re directly the offspring of the Ukrainian Waffen SS mass murderers, killers and devotees extraordinaire of the Third Reich and others that vaingloriously and rather crucially, evidently fuelled that European internecine war, narcissistically classed as World War II, when it really had bugger all to do with the rest of the world actually, and now vaingloriously obviously but pathetically proselytize themselves as genuinely authentic British, which none of these odious, very toxically verminous and clearly malignantly egregious, quite blatant mother fuckers – of all genders are – why the hell should then, should I very crucially waste time on them, or essentially seek to intelligently espouse discernible common sense and evidently sound reason to them when they quite perceptibly simply haven’t got the capacity, or intellectual acumen, to absorb, let alone inculcate what I would be saying?
