Oxymoronish (a poem of consternation)
Clearly with Oxymorons...the bad soon begins...
The worst is left entirely, partially behind,
Foolish wisdom of the many, but of a few...
Virtual reality...as an absence of the mind.
The caricature, once as a doppelganger...
Supportive antagonist...easily seen, as blind.
A true myth...the presence of its absence,
As alone in a crowd...the sweet agony kind.
As to resist anything...except temptation...
Ones unfaithfulness, wrongly, keeps him true,
Deeply superficial in beliefs...so exemplifying,
Wrongful righteousness, as good, being not to do.
This to be definitely a maybe...constantly incapable,
As bright smoke and cold fire...is absolutely unsure,
While feathers of lead fall to the sky...bold lions hide,
The deafening silence, roars timidly...proudly demure.
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