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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.
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.
We need to begin again.

This was written for Sunday Scribblings 2 and The Sunday Whirl.


Unknown said...

Lots of emotion here ... a great write!

February 8, 2015 at 1:33 AM
Old Egg said...

It 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 AM
Jae Rose said...

Things 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 AM
Misky said...

There's sad desperation in this poem. I hope you haven't given up hope on mankind!


February 8, 2015 at 8:31 AM
Roslyn Ross said...

Yes, well done.

February 8, 2015 at 8:42 AM
C.C. said...

"With our cravings, we seal our fate"---truly wise words here!!

February 8, 2015 at 6:38 PM
Alice Audrey said...

This one sounds a little like The Walking Man's poetry.

February 10, 2015 at 12:01 PM

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