Why Bother?

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic


Just introspecting


I despise,

The chaos,

When i dwell,

In the horrors,

Of circumstance.

 

With order,

Reduced,

To redundancy,

Of Rants,

Or brainless chants.

 

Did we,

Weather,

Adversity,

To fabricate,

A suicidal trance?

 

Decaying,

On sediment,

Of sentiment.

A sly fossil,

With a lively stance.

 

I loathe,

Deception,

When i think,

The influence,

Rationality grants.

 

And forethought,

Is a careless,

Paradox

Of the selfless,

With a greedy prance.

 

Did we,

Impart,

Awareness,

To theorize,

Pre emptive plans?

 

Displaying,

Pretence,

Of deterrents,

Sabotaging,

Our own advance.

 

I grieve,

My passion,

When i see,

The excesses,

Built by,

My hand.

 

When society,

Restricts,

Potential,

As an unyielding,

Quicksand.

 

Did we,

Forge,

Liberty,

With compelling,

Biased implants?

 

Greying,

Our sense,

With exigence,

Justifying our,

Every chance.

 

 

I languish,

In contempt,

When i feel,

What i try,

To understand.

 

With action,

Refused,

By compliance.

An imitation,

Of the Bland.

 

Did we,

Abet,

Vigilance,

For others,

To be damned?

 

Swaying,

Prevalence,

For precedence,

Hypocrisy,

Has us programmed.

 

I devour,

My reflection,

When i know,

It has,

A piercing glance.

 

Observations,

Seem futile,

And treachorous,

As we chance,

Our turbid expanse.

 

Did we,

Formulate,

Righteousness,

As an unreal,

Complex demand?

 

Weighing,

The essence,

Of decadence,

Where morality,

Is contraband.


Submitted: September 04, 2018

© Copyright 2022 Devesh Unfound. All rights reserved.

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