I think you have these things twisted,

Knowing the most that it was you who missed it,

You failed to realize what the list consisted,

So, it was you who resisted the insisted,

Who can we blame if not you?

 The twisted game created by you.

Have you known no shame?

The insanity afflicted on the predicted.

The imagination that became simplistic,

The souls that were restricted,

The dream once realistic turned horrific…

Can you not say this wasn’t all you?

When the world you made was this sick and twisted?

This image that is no different from the next,

That’s the truth for those truly oppressed.

Yes?

What does it mean to be twisted?

It’s only defined as what you depicted,

What you made within the victim,

The wicked…

But just as you twist and bend,

Like these words with no end,

The twisted is not in the norm,

But the platform that signifies the storm.

The storm of the human heart,

It’s twisted veins never apart,

Connected from the start,

We are all one huge distorted art.