deepundergroundpoetry.com
I wonder...
No where near enough stop
to consider 'what is the point
to this struggle?'
Even fewer learn what the struggle
actually is
so they make it up
and dance motionlessly
around an invented strife.
There is nothing there.
But, in the meantime
I worry.
I worry for those
who haven't seen
the true definition of 'love'
and they are too young
to ask the right questions
they only know loveless.
They are inspired by those
who can only remind them
to forget the self
and embrace the ego.
Ah, the ego...
That nasty fucker;
the shadow of the self.
The shield that protects one
from actually being.
I witness it thrown about
in swaggers and curse words.
It stops him from bowing his head
and saying 'thank you'
it expects everything.
I WILL bow my head
for I feel sorrow.
There is no need for this
yet it comes across
as the only option
as if it is born
of necessity
where in reality
it is born
of forgetfullness.
Where have we gone?
to consider 'what is the point
to this struggle?'
Even fewer learn what the struggle
actually is
so they make it up
and dance motionlessly
around an invented strife.
There is nothing there.
But, in the meantime
I worry.
I worry for those
who haven't seen
the true definition of 'love'
and they are too young
to ask the right questions
they only know loveless.
They are inspired by those
who can only remind them
to forget the self
and embrace the ego.
Ah, the ego...
That nasty fucker;
the shadow of the self.
The shield that protects one
from actually being.
I witness it thrown about
in swaggers and curse words.
It stops him from bowing his head
and saying 'thank you'
it expects everything.
I WILL bow my head
for I feel sorrow.
There is no need for this
yet it comes across
as the only option
as if it is born
of necessity
where in reality
it is born
of forgetfullness.
Where have we gone?
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