A glass half
full,
but we want more.
Who says when it’s
too much?
Fleece your
neighbor.
Fill your
plate.
Crowd your
life to bursting.
There’s always room for another.
What values
have we instilled
with our abundance?
All wound up
with expectations,
drunk and stumbling
through the funhouse.
through the funhouse.
Tumble down
without a
sound.
(No one wants
to listen, anyway.)
It’s all a
farce, you know.
So put on
your glad rags
and clown
shoes,
emit your
happy cries
and cheer along
with the others.
Refuse to
see.
With our
cravings we seal our fate.
7 comments:
Lots of emotion here ... a great write!
February 8, 2015 at 1:33 AMIt really is quite sickening to realize what waste makers we are and at the same time so many go without. It is as though we are celebrating our meanness and paucity of charity. Sadly our voices cry in the wilderness of greed. It is good you have waved the flag.
February 8, 2015 at 1:41 AMThings do not make a life and still we seek out that cornucopia that will save us...make things better..we really do need to start again..wisely and powerfully written as ever
February 8, 2015 at 4:31 AMThere's sad desperation in this poem. I hope you haven't given up hope on mankind!
February 8, 2015 at 8:31 AMhttps://selmasiri.wordpress.com/2015/02/07/on-the-high-ridge-scrub/
Yes, well done.
February 8, 2015 at 8:42 AM"With our cravings, we seal our fate"---truly wise words here!!
February 8, 2015 at 6:38 PMThis one sounds a little like The Walking Man's poetry.
February 10, 2015 at 12:01 PMPost a Comment