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Only Darkness Is Left
Great days of freedom and fun,
now I am back, stuck in my chair,
stuck with a text, stuck with myself -
that's it, I'm stuck with ME and I'm
boring myself to death
Dying while trying to read a light-
hearted fantasy, dying while listening
to a cold dissertation on children's
literature by adults who remonstrate
with me for reading it
WRONGLY, we're not supposed to read
anything for enjoyment, life is supposed
to be hard and we should suffer - only
they are smart and suffer in an adult,
grown-up way while I
Suffer like a child - unable to be cold
and cynical about the general human
condition of waging wars for survival
and fighting for justice, spreading
suffering more equally
We cannot lift ALL people to a state of
joy and privilege - but luckily we can
attain brotherhood and equality by
dragging all people down to the
same desperate state
Cynical and cool adolescent insight
into the useless nature of life - at
least I am glad to oblige these
people by admitting life is hell -
now I feel better again
Glad in finding compelling reasons for
my stupidity and low IQ, my inability
to concentrate - I was put on earth
to make clever people look good -
my pain is meaningful
Serving as the black background of
ignorance against which the bright
intelligence of more privileged
human beings appears to
more advantage
I am cast as the class dunce - once I
accept my role of being an attendant
to my superiors I can gambol again,
happy in the reassurance that others
are blessed by me:
Their brilliant shine appears more
scintillating against a sombre back-
ground of idiots with black holes in
their minds which suck in the light
of knowledge until
Only darkness is left...
poem
by
Margaret Alice Second
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