Chaotic and blind,
We wander the Earth for a glimpse,
And the pain of never knowing,
We cover it up with 34 hours of television per week,
Ignoring the lonely, hungry and cold,
We cover the hurt with our orgies, sex clubs and midnight pornography,
Beat it to a pulp,
Watching other people live their lives,
Climbing social ladders of sports, celebrities and corporate kings,
Instead of seeing the chains, brokenness and suffering for what it is,
To what end is this insanity?
To what end is this madness?
A glimpse of hope,
The pedestal of love we've built,
Chasing dreams till they die,
Then we die,
And in a moment look back at the spinning plates,
And as they freeze,
And drop and fade away,
We finally find peace.
<SI> Scott Izu, PhD
© February 2015