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Enigmatic Pariah

If you don't learn to write your own story, someone else will write it for you

22 poems·Since February 2017

Poetry is a Mirror, Which Makes Beautiful That Which is Distorted. - Percy Bysshe Shelley

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The Problems With Humanity (Part 1)

March 18, 2018

Why does it take tragedy, to learn a human lesson?

Why wait until the damage is done before any stride is taken to lessen, it?

National attention only comes to a common issue

When we can longer bear the wafting smell of dead human tissue.

 

Permeation and persistence of human evil

Passivity and the nativity of sin in humanity

Swept under the rug, treated as a non-issue

Because people no longer believe 

In that which they cannot conceive

 

Relativism is the new critical pluralism

And the meaning of truth has been obscured 

And virtue has been imprisoned

Ransomed for instantaneous gratification

Without having to feel any condemnation

For the abhorrent sin, which, like a flag, we're waving

 

Waving along, claiming it represents truth and freedom

But all it represents is a new form of imprisonment

Which we've voluntarily confined ourselves to.

The prison of individuality

Which is nothing more than group conformity.

 

All corn-pone opinions here

Because the only opinions that we are willing to hear

Are the ones already contained within our echo chamber ears

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