The court is biased
Each man for his own sake
Seeks the golden egg
And freedom from criticism
To live as he pleases
He raises his boot
A treaded gavel
To mold those who dare
Stumble beneath him
He must prove himself
Again and again
Lest he find himself
Fitted into the rubber
Of another man’s heel
His grip unbuckles
Knowing the expense
Of what he holds and the others
Starving to gift his luxury
When they want nothing
But a loaf of bread and the latitude
To nurse their creations
He lives with an ache
And a false family
Progress having taken
His heart in collateral
The means his happiness
How is one meant to survive
When society promotes
Criminals and crushes saints?
Perhaps he thinks
I should change
But coping numbs him
*
I managed to write despite the pain. I decided to strip down and write plainly. The image is a preview!
Wow, amazingly evocative, the last line cuts like a knife!! š
Thanks Helen!
Powerful poem.
Thank you so much =)
How is one meant to survive
When society promotes
Criminals and crushes saints?
How true, the signs of times! One needs to be one step ahead in these uncertain times. One must keep away from being taken in by the unscrupulous. Nicely mlm!
Hank
Thank you so much for your kind words!
Really powerful writing!
Wow Chris thank you!
This is an amazing work. It is real.
“Others starving to gift his luxury . . . Progress has taken his heart collateral . . . How is one meant to survive when society promotes criminals and crushes saints?”
An picture of some politicians over here comes to mind swiftly.
Politicians are a good example of this and thanks so much Peter
great question on promoting the criminals and crushing the saints…and on how you have to prove yourself if you dont want to end up on the heel of another mans boot…
Thanks so much Brian!
A good poem poem as hard as life itself!
Thanks Leovi =)
Living comes in varieties… the riddle to finding the way to know the right thing is very difficult because right and wrong have become synonymous.
His persona is presented like a dagger and the last few lines is where he leaves his mark… like the Z of Zorro.
Powerful writing. š
Thanks Anmol!