Modern Life.
Poems of a Life left out in the cold.
Cult Culture.
The answers are stupid, and the givers are too.
When your life has soured, what do you do?
Give up and crumble, or fight to the end,
Or form a community, of family and friends?
The choice is all yours, to fall or to fight,
Living in the dark, or choosing the light.
My choice is clear, and yours should be too.
Go sharpen your mind, you know what to do.
The Past
I know Gods are real, all up there somewhere. At least they once were, omnipotent and fair. We asked them for food, for love, and for rain. We all talked to them when we were in pain. When in times of our lives, or in bitter despair. We asked for so much, but gave air, and less. Why did they answer us, it's anyone's guess. Now times are different, we grew petty needs. Not praying for sunlight, or cure for disease. Instead it's God I just need some more money, I have nothing to offer you and I'm not being funny. Its impossible to understand, and even harder to see, why the Gods have ignored the requests like these.
Hardwood Humanity.
Our humanity comes in cycles you see, it grows just like an old hard wood tree. It starts with a seed, a community thought. When it first gets planted the future is bought. Roots begin spreading, just to hold up the tree. Branches start growing, the new leaves blowing free. But the life down below the new tree starts to flee, it's roots are killing and choking the grass sea. The leaves don't allow the sunlight to pass. The tree does not care for the life of the grass. The forest will spread, yes but not all that fast, and there will always be signs of the things of the past.
All is not lost, and it never will be. The grass grows at the edge of the shade of the tree.