NG ( / )

Groups

There is no physical pain that compares
To the scalding searing pain of injustice
Inflicted by the limited, the cliques, the gaggles
The packs, the masses, in other words groups
People pretending to think the same
Which means, generally, not to think at all

No burn, no gash, no splintered bone
-And I know what I’m talking about
That hurts or throbs like the snide judgement
The blow of the forces of self-righteousness
Emitted by committed collectives fearful
Of their status quo threatened by truths

And while no-one ever says, Oh, why
Clean an open cut, leave off the bandage
Don’t set that fracture, forget the bullet
Everymen’s advised remedy against these wounds
And powerlessness against salt poured on
Is to walk away, and leave well enough alone

User Rating: 5 / 5 ( 0 votes )

Comments (0)

There is no comment submitted by members.