Another Hit For That Fix
When did the living of life,
Become the sole purpose...
To acquire things?
With a desiring that hypnotizes.
When was it that a stress accepted,
To impress others...
Leave such a disappointing affect,
That left our attachments addressed...
More valued than human beings neglected?
And who was it that decided what we possessed,
Would be taxed to never own?
To deluded ourselves and others shown.
As we condone those brave who fought our wars,
On foreign shores...
To needlessly sit hungry and homeless,
Upon city streets and curbs.
As if deserving of it to ease our nerves.
What ignorance qualified itself like this?
To become for us prioritized and not resist.
And to demand with expectations,
A picking of our own choice of entitlements.
With a decision to place insanity,
At the top of our wish list to ensure its existence.
When did the living of life,
Become the sole purpose...
To acquire things?
With a desiring.
That leaves us hypocrites hypnotized.
To feel we have rights to judge and criticize.
And today with a worship of it we can not rid.
Like addicts we pray to get another 'hit' for that 'fix'...
To satisfy that high we get.
With a numbness prescribed and legally authorized,
As we are fed our dysfunctional way of life is envied...
By those we are taught seek to take away our greatness.
And that's why they do their best to fight against us,
As we select which ones are our enemies living on their land.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
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