What a sorry mess.
Obsessed by trinkets, bling and hype
we pass our days - exams with no study
worrying 'bout something that is nothing.
Trees in the distance beckoning
But heads cast down
for another day of reckoning
We languish into work
eyes forward, through the blood stained tears.
And this. This is what we strive for.
Are we so bereft of smarts?
Lacking so in creative will?
That we eat our fill of gruel
And beg for more?
"Yes" we wimper.
Yes.
Photos courtesy of pixabay.com
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