by ISIAH

Mr. Aristotle:
When I rule the world,
I’d answer all questions known to man.
I’d wish all my students success
and eventually answers the questions I could not.

Dr. King:
When I rule the world,
it’ll be a better world
minus racism, plagiarism,
police brutality, corporate bailouts,
Wall Street monopolies, child extortion,
and uninformed abortions.

Mr. Caesar:
When I rule the world,
I want people to worship me,
bathe me in their love, and support me.
I want people to do whatever I say and do it now.
I want emotionless citizens to worship my crown.

Mr. Obama:
When I rule the world,
I want to cure cancer.
I want to save my mom,
and perhaps your’s too.
I want everyone to be safe and have parents
to tuck them in at night and be there to snuggle up to.

Mr. Adolph:
When I rule the world,
I want to destroy my mortal enemies,
bring chaos to its peak, and laugh
at my burning victims while I watch
their loved ones weep.

Mr. Wilkins:
When I rule the world,
I hope the fame won’t ruin me,
change me into someone I’m not supposed to be,
and inevitably, I hope I could find happiness.

Mr. Darwin:
When I rule the world,
nothing is going to change,
not in the slightest bit,
because humanity is doomed to repeat history.
We are imperfect, and the sooner we face it,
the sooner we can finally be saved by it.

by ISIAH

The world turns backwards like a hurricane.
Where religion affects politics,
the malevolent takes precedent over those who are relevant,
ignorant like a baby Helen Keller to all the world’s problems.
Rubik’s cube solution to a 1 + 1 problem,
Wanderers lost from a straight line that provides them sanction.
Invisible proofs are ideals by the masses’ beliefs.
Angry yells because lies hold no truth,
stuck in a 2 x 4 phone booth,
phone lines are cut loose,
no sweet talks to consume weak hearts,
so no one believes you when you run away,
and that’s why you breath hard.
Those panicking breaths are consumed by chemicals that influence the brain,
disillusioned choice run in and outside the body
from needle point holes in your arm
to hallucinogens giving you pictures of Barney.
What happened to childhood dreams?
Now it’s minimum-wage manual labor.
Still stuck in that phone booth with metal bars,
and the state gave you a quarter,
but the phone lines are cut loose
and the repairmen aren’t going to come.
Yet still, instead of doing what needs to be done,
we decide to get deceived by what seems to be.