In the function of folly
I gave up on myself today
The pain from my past
Just keeps eating my soul away
If I continue down this road
Diminishing returns are certain
Shall I follow the road made from the yellow brick?
And ask the man behind the curtain?
If you can no longer be inspired
Then you’ve ghosted your soul that is now pronounced dead
You must fight this egregious apathy
That runs deep within your weary head
The world is full of suffering
Mother Teresa once said
But it is also full of the overcoming of it
As this is the lesson that we must spread
The things we tell ourselves
Just may not be true
Distortions of our perception
Makes the sky gray and not blue
In our attempt to sway opinion
We may say things and try to deceive
The better we get at this
The better the chance is that they will believe
But it’s those little lies
When we self-reflect
That protect our egos
We are unwilling to inspect
If we lose our ability
To be truthful in how we act
Our credibility becomes weak
Breaking down the social contract
If I pretend it didn’t happen
Then maybe I lead myself astray
I never change my behavior
Yet I expect these problems to simply fade away
If only I could do something?
That would result in a net gain
If only I can avoid this cycle?
That keeps me attached to the pain
How do I recognize?
How will I make a change?
If and when I take some action?
If and when my priorities I rearrange?
If our mistakes don’t catch up with us
As this is why we must forgive
The ones that do catch up
Are the ones that we are certain to relive
The state of being penitent
Is overcome by learning from the unforgiven
When the scars run deep
One then tends to become the driven
The evidence is abundant
Common sense must reign
To falsify the propaganda
Ask how do you know? …again and again
The spiritual war
Is at our door
Our logic must free
The minds that are under siege
Epistemology can bring us about
Those who spin the fallacious babble
Are the sophist’s who spew
The language you must unravel
Think on these things
When confronted with information we receive
Free speech is a mixed blessing
In our effort to reprieve
It is up to each person
To vet the ideas of the body politic
The choice will be yours
To champion your own yardstick
I have anger I wear as my totem
For the ignorance of my family
When reminded with an unforgiven shame
Why do I lament this with such voracity?
Why do old wounds hurt so much?
Awakening an inner child with unresolved propensities
Do I cling because of my rigid beliefs?
Can I ever outgrow this identity?
I have anger I wear as my totem
There are others who remind me of our idiocy
This takes me back to my childhood
Ahhh The old wounds from the family
I see through the lens of a victim
I seldom take any responsibility
The truth serum I have now taken
Will last as long as I apply the scrutiny
I see through the lens of my arrogance
I put myself above any objectivity
I dispense with critical thinking
As this is what I can only see
I see through the lens of my ignorance
I have not fully investigated the facts
I cannot reach any definitive conclusion
I am limited to my own mental acts
I see through the lens of my maturity
I wander about in my limited view
If I make sense out of only these predicates
Without any experience what am I to do?