my self-righteous scribble.
1.
windswept winters, numbing the soul, walking through this life, sidestepping many a pothole,
dreams dreamt when innocent and young, now being marched to the gallows, to be mutely hung,
remember those moments, freely soaring across the azure sky, to the now where the death march plods on, to be interred in the cold ground to lie,
all those sentiments, visions of joy and peace, now scarred by reality, shorn repeatedly off like used up fleece,
where did those noble aspirations scatter, idealistic principles that burned bright, now seem hardly at all to matter,
why did we end up the way we are, mere husks, bodies regurgitating the daily charade, silent amongst the hoopla of this deadened parade,
finding a job, then hanging onto it for dear life, attempts at paying the bills, settling the never ending rent, trampling over others, till consciences are dumbed down and irretrievably bent,
saving up for retirement, for those fortunate few who can, walking the streets of shame, flinging a few coins in someones hollow tin can,
time flies by, as we hop from work to home, surrendering the humanity once cherished, once felt so deep, only to collapse inebriated, into a dreamless sleep.
2.
can we ever recover that pristine innocence, that belief in a world less cruel, while over flutes of champagne, we guzzle and drool,
are we so lost within ourselves that we no longer give a damn, living in our cocoons, a sterile, frigid sham,
where have our consciences hurried away to, leaving us empty, devoid of the truths we once firmly held, while into the plastic world around us, we have begun to meld,
are we so far gone that we absolve our consciences once a month or two, scribbling cheques to greenpeace and amnesty international too,
both worthy causes if truth be told, who wouldn’t need our charity if weapons of war were not manufactured, bought and sold,
how have we come to this place, where the weak are belittled, while the greed of the 1% is coveted, while humane values lie in cupboards, empty and closeted,
this meagre verse could go on, spilling words onto paper, mere self-righteous rhymes,
soon to be forgotten, as i scurry on, for ever more dollars, nickels, and dimes.
This is life as we know it. The struggle , all the way. You have written an epic piece. I told you , you are very good 😊
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thank you yet again, my friend. life indeed is a never ending struggle and it need not be so were it not for human greed which leaves so many trying just to survive. the greed that is destroying our home, with the pollution and the desecration of nature. Hugs my friend.
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It’s an imbalance. But I hope goodness will prevail. Politics are the bane.
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every word you say is true. and yes, we hope. ✌👍✊☮☯
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Yes. 🤗
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Life in the fast lane, my dear! We are all part of this rat-race. All for what? To die alone, to die empty handed? I often ask myself the questions that you have so eloquently phrased in your epic poem. I loved the way you have built it up to drive home a story that belongs to all of us. Very well done, dear friend. And yes, the Ubuntu memo is classic.
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thank you, my dear friend for your warm words.
so true are your words, this rat race and all for what exactly in the end … we shall all depart this world empty handed.
warm hugs and love ✌👍✊
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Back at ya!
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😊
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👍👍👍👍👍👍👍👍👍👍👍
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humbled. thank you, my friend
Peace and equality ✌👍✊
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👍👍✌✌
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Reblogged this on O LADO ESCURO DA LUA.
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thank you, my friend.
Peace and Equality ✌✊
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