Why am I angry?
Rage has taken over twice now
Yet there is no reason for it, not really.
Where is the resistance that has taken this from of expression?
What is it holding me back from?
Does my ego so fear death that it’s clinging on with all it can?
So much thought and clarity,
Why am I angry?
The older I become the more appreciation that is gained in a silent smile when things are gong or have gone sour.
It’s not that we have given up
It’s that we never started in the first place
It’s true, we can’t give up on what we didn’t do
If there is any one absolute truth in this world it it this;
People want to hear what they want to hear and if you tell them what they want to hear they will soon be eating out of the palm of your hand.
Even more coffee
Now the human is finally awake, you may speak,
What an interesting bunch we are.
To sacrifice your everything
For everyone else to have theirs
Sounds like a fair trade to me
To lament that which we are rid of
After we chose it
Why do we succumb to such things?
Is it a fools passion
The hopeless cry of the romantic
Or the nature of the human condition?
One day no more will we worry, wonder or want
For that which was once lamented
Is now not even a memory
Replaced it has been by that which you again be rid of
Repeating your cycle evermore.
If madness was truth
And the truth will set us free
Then perhaps we should listen to everything, no matter how mad it sounds.
What is it that makes us human
Could it be the random acts of kindness
Or the faith we have in others
Maybe it’s all of those
Are we so hopelessly divine
That redemption is not needed
Our sacrifice unwarranted
Does magnanimity abhor
The altruistic acts
Allude us the answer does.