The Disease
Self involved, driven by happiness,
Progress quickly becomes a stalemate.
Casting innocence out the window,
Only to make room for the ghost of judgment.
All as one,
Divide and concur
Treasure your life of luxury,
Before it burns to the ground,
Don't count on sweet relief
Just another casualty of humanity
Fanning the flames of it own obsession...
👁 3💬 0
Something wrong with this poem?
Replies are closed for this poem.
Your Poem's Voice
See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.
Comments (0)
No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.
Log in to leave a comment.