lost

Lost
I found the marks left there by my ancestors.
Etches that spread like wildfire from the center,
blood could be found lying on the floor.
Who would have lost it?

People feel lost often on this journey.
Wild elephants pant on a stampede though our psyche.
How do you choose the right to life when you can't choose your parents?
Seems like a topsy turvy world of contradictions and pretenses.

Burdens
People sleep in beds of silk and beds of thorns.
Rain falls in buckets, wetting the path
that links the flowers in beauty.
Running around naked feels freeing of sin and shame.

Life speaks to us in leaps and bounds of energy, exerting pressure,
but it¹s hard to move beyond the small realm of reality that we have created.
Want not the share of another's burden of sin.
Sleep peacefully every chance the world will allow.

Greed
Dissatisfied is a state of mind.
Sometimes my mind finds time for this conflict.
Disinfectant cleans the space left fouled by dissatisfaction,
but the contrast speaks evil.

Sometimes I don't feel real when I try to justify right from wrong.
Yet how can I live life, one without the other?
Feathers fly, attached to wings, but fall to the ground on molting.

Pain is harsh up against the cold reality of greed.
Greed needs to feed at the expense of the weakest links.
The chain links struggle to mend, but only bend and bend.
Sometimes they break, rarely do they mend.
Who cares who's there?
Can we care enough to share?

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introduction | art | life | relationships | lost | found | nine eleven