A Prayer for the Steppenwolves

In an absolute sense,
I think i've done well with forgiveness.
When all stones are counted,
I wish every man and woman a blessed existence.
I forgive those who have hurt me.
I forgive Hitler and Mussolini.
I forgive the evil for their weakness
And the weak for their ignorance.
But, i cannot forgive myself,
Though i try.
And,
In a practical sense,
As the minutia of the day's minutes pass me by,
I find it very difficult to accept the ways of man.
Though i'll continue to try the best i can,
This city of man seems a wicked illusion.
I find it extremely difficult not to judge.
It feels like i hate, all the time.
People lie.
People lie to themselves and all around,
All the time.
It makes them feel sly.
People steal,
Or if they don't, if they can't,
They want to.
The rich steal from the poor,
Yes,
But the poor want to steal from the rich too.
With who do i ally?
With those who've found unscrupulous success?
Simply, life is survival of the fittest.
Should a field-mouse resent that a bird can fly?
Do i side with the unwashed masses?
They didn't choose their lot in life,
Nor did i.
Their strife is my strife,
Why is it so hard to share their cry?
It can make for a difficult life.
I love everybody,
But i question everybody.
I judge them, as i judge myself.
In time,
Everybody feels insulted,
And everybody offends me.
It gets to be very hard to live with the stupidity i see.
I guess i've lost a lot of faith in the average human brain.
Most everybody seems the same,
Mindless minions in line to a grab bag
of evil and stupid and petty and greed.
The ratios of the results are different,
But the essence of the participants are
Essentially the same.
Call me a pompous ass,
But,
I do not think i am the same.
And,
I'm bull-headed,
I'm not going to change.
I'm not going to make it easier.
I could, easily.
I'm a good actor and i know the game.
Do you have any idea how easy it would be for me
To blend into the 99% or the tea party?
Probably not,
But,
Trust me.
It'd be very easy.
I could easily go through life
Agreeing with most everyone i meet.
Often times, i can argue one's view better than they can themselves.
What if that were my pattern?
Why,
I'd be considered a hero then,
Instead of an outsider.
I could speak at rallies
And bring psuedo hippies to their knees
With my sermons on the malice of the bourgeoisie,
And the heartless model of inequity.
I could rub elbows
With rich men at fine tables,
And laugh at the paupers in the streets.
But,
I can't do that.
In my heart,
I'd know it to be deception,
And,
For me,
Life is about the question,
Not the confirmation.
So,
This is my destiny.
To walk the hills,
Alone most of the time.
Shunned and ridiculed by those in town,
Scorned by those in the countryside.
A steppenwolf,
To stagger alone,
With not but the lord and my truth by my side.
And i'll try.
I'll try to forgive the world.
And,
I'll keep asking myself and the world to forgive me.
You see,
You have your part,
And i have mine.
I love you all.
I ask,
As humbly as i can,
The next time that i am a thorn in your side,
That you might remember,
This path,
It ain't easy.

-DyMc