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The Middle Class Guilt Poem
Contributed by
Blackevar
on
Monday, 3rd January 2005 @ 05:42:11 AM in AEST
Topic:
Lifepoems
|
Difficult as it may be to comprehend the truth,
A truth we much search to see,
We are duty bound through the gift of being,
To rise and ask not sit and be.
To ask why one should starve until their gut implodes,
Then burn beneath the sun,
While another gorges to a blubbery mass,
And eats more when he’s done,
To ask what one should spend on guns,
To keep their brother weak,
And make sure that he never learns to stand,
Upon his withered feet,
Just in case he dared ask why,
He had to watch his children die,
With cracked skin on tongues dry,
They stare at him with lifeless eyes.
To ask why one should die for a flag,
Or even why one should care,
About dead ideals and rotating martyrs
Exhumed to speak for a market share.
To ask why we should work like slaves,
To pay for our quarter and keep
While master bang the drum and bass,
Until we go asleep.
Keeping us scared, scared indeed
So we’ll follow with the common lead,
And we’ll buy ***** that you don’t need,
And satisfy our communal greed,
He must starve so I may feast,
He must die so I have peace,
He must scavenge so I can spoil,
He must choke so I may soil.
So see beyond the bull ***** to a truth that we know well.
We all keep warm in heaven cause they burn alive in hell.
Copyright ©
Blackevar
... [
2005-01-03 05:42:11]
(Date/Time posted on
site)
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Re: The Middle Class Guilt Poem
(User Rating: 1 )
by emystar on
Monday, 3rd January 2005 @ 06:23:15 AM AEST
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a Message)
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Very thoght provoking write.
huggs, smiles,
emy |
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Re: The Middle Class Guilt Poem
(User Rating: 1 )
by Stitch on
Monday, 3rd January 2005 @ 08:48:03 AM AEST
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There are those who don't sit back. You are obviously a thinker and serious person.
I have a friend who spent the last ten years as a missionary. She and her husband and kids gave up the dream for a real dream. They depended on contributions and worked to help free women from the trap of prostitution in Amsterdam. I admire her more than anyone else I know. I wish I had her guts.
Stitch |
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