grew to all I could be

a tree sits at the end of a pathway on a hill, the background looks stormy and a mist is rolling in

in the past people asked who am I,

the faint core blast of a nice guy,

quiet in his stance,

always watching at a glance,

for opportunities to keep safe.

but that man evolved,

knew suffering untold,

saw the sun set on his love,

grieving the loss of themselves.

self-cherishing arsonist,

you waste happiness like piss,

born of self-grasping unkind,

the root of the mind,

that keeps us all in hell.

there’s nirvana and bliss,

freedom from suffering,

our addiction,

the forever affliction,

uncontrollabled desire.

can’t even remember the great floods,

the ones that nearly killed us,

expected to remember to be kind.

so cruel a thought,

the one that tears at our heart,

that not bothering with compassion,

the sense of decency that’s human,

to watch others die when we could help,

is a mindset that destroys itself.

what speech can be given to such misery

and confusion?

to the right wing mind that relishes in the power,

the libertarian deludes,

that power makes people,

and not the reverse to be true.

know your real history,

it’s the people that save,

not one singular leader,

all powerful and brave.

do you have so little faith in humans,

that you’d prefer to believe some god

threw some sod and made everything?

I believe in humans,

at least I thought so,

along came the thatched reagan’s snatch,

took your safety,

traded it for property,

now they’re stuck in their flaps,

maybe we leave them perhaps.

believe in people,

your neighbours,

the police {..not on your nelly!.}

something tells me they’re in the pocket of the man,

best avoid them if you can.

this all came to grow,

around the old mass of a nice guy that lost more than half his family.

© Copyright 2022 InkeyString

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