Array ( [sid] => 182929 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Indiscreet possessions. [time] => 2016-04-13 13:42:09 [hometext] => [bodytext] => Indiscreet possessions.


The gather and change we heft around,
filing in on lost time for platitudes of sorrow.
Soda cans lay away for retirement, as we swallow whatever the doctor orders.
Most likely the same drug the pen used to write it advertised so well.

Is it the pills we take that make the person?
Easy enough to call everyone else junkies with a medicine cabinet filled at home.
A bottle in the cabinet,
while chasing your tail for short gains.
Gnawing at corporate approved artificial bones,
watching our animals feast in delight.

Replacing one ideology for another is not progress.
Shoving of opinions with antidepressants to calm the guilt will not change the past.
We are humanity our hands are stained with oceans of blood.
The only thing we can do is work together to regain valuable time.
In a whole we are a third world, hoarding without sharing.
Fighting without listening.
We keep coming around to another fall of Rome.
Society crumbles as we watch the screen.
As the lions eat the weak.
Drowning in fears.

Listening to scholars and media to trust no one.
Play the victim, blame everyone but ourselves.
Passing responsibility on to another, unable to handle our own.
What is change if it is forced?
Is it progress if we start regressing in free speech?

I will and must play this broken record.
It is what fills my mind.
Watching destruction in a world while we fight over the trivial.
From one belief to another, chocking on ideology.
It is what fills my dreams.
We are family,
we/'/re just to stubborn to accept it.


[comments] => 3 [counter] => 383 [topic] => 76 [informant] => lostrelic [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => obsession ) Your Poetry Dot Com - Indiscreet possessions.


Indiscreet possessions.
Date: Wednesday, 13th April 2016 @ 01:42:09 PM AEST
Topic: Sad Poetry

Contributed By: lostrelic
Indiscreet possessions.


The gather and change we heft around,
filing in on lost time for platitudes of sorrow.
Soda cans lay away for retirement, as we swallow whatever the doctor orders.
Most likely the same drug the pen used to write it advertised so well.

Is it the pills we take that make the person?
Easy enough to call everyone else junkies with a medicine cabinet filled at home.
A bottle in the cabinet,
while chasing your tail for short gains.
Gnawing at corporate approved artificial bones,
watching our animals feast in delight.

Replacing one ideology for another is not progress.
Shoving of opinions with antidepressants to calm the guilt will not change the past.
We are humanity our hands are stained with oceans of blood.
The only thing we can do is work together to regain valuable time.
In a whole we are a third world, hoarding without sharing.
Fighting without listening.
We keep coming around to another fall of Rome.
Society crumbles as we watch the screen.
As the lions eat the weak.
Drowning in fears.

Listening to scholars and media to trust no one.
Play the victim, blame everyone but ourselves.
Passing responsibility on to another, unable to handle our own.
What is change if it is forced?
Is it progress if we start regressing in free speech?

I will and must play this broken record.
It is what fills my mind.
Watching destruction in a world while we fight over the trivial.
From one belief to another, chocking on ideology.
It is what fills my dreams.
We are family,
we/'/re just to stubborn to accept it.




This poem is Copyright © lostrelic


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