I'm not sure what I am doing most of the time
and other times I'm in a bit of a funk
I try to focus but the edges are all rusty
like that nail that one summer
I'm trying to do the right thing but it gets all
upside in and outside down
and tangled like that slinky I used to love
and like that toy, some things cannot be untangled
unless you cut them, snip them, and sever the knot
or the cancer or the darkness, pull it out and cast it away
leaving a little less, still serviceable, but nothing quite the same
as the original
if it doesn't make you stronger, it'll probably make you fat
and ugly, because that's the image they project
those that mean something to someone, shallow,
perfect teeth, perfect chest, perfect abs, perfect lies
the disguise of beauty that hides the disgust and perversions that dwell
in the dark recess of the human psyche, even in those beautiful stupid
creatures
I'm still here
no more bitter than before, no less either
I see the stupidity and laziness and meanness and I feel sad
and angry and ashamed of us...the top of the food chain
the bottom of the dungheap
I try to teach but the willingness to learn isn't there
I try to guide but the directions are not taken
I try to understand but the impulse is lost to me
so I write and I watch and I think
I'm still here
Why?
2 comments:
Time passes and here I am, still suspended with a bitter taste of cynicism lingering in my mouth; wondering--is this the way it's always going to feel now that my naive beliefs have been laid down and died? What happened to that sweet blissful bubble I once floated around in for so long in my life?
But I know the answer to that. Reality is what happened to it. I chose that, to burst my own shiny bubbles if that's the price.
I may envy bliss, but I cannot envy ignorance.
The most I can say, is, well stated.
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