Monday, 23 April 2018

Bread and Butter

A poem from 2018

A feast fit for a king
How we thought so differently when we were young
Pre-neurotic, we played out all day
No worries
Why did we have to grow up?
Why did the world turn so sour
Existential angst came and bit us
And we sighed, depressed
We stocked up on pills
All those labour saving machines
They just gave us more time to be unhappy

In booze in trust
A plethora of new gods flooded into our consciousness
Taste a bit of this
Drink a bit of that
Close your eyes and jump off that metaphysical cliff
What happened to those innocent, happy days?
We snuggled up
We were happy
Along came suspicion and mistrust
Hormonal anger
A catch-all excuse for bad behaviour
“Ain’t nothing your fault, it’s some syndrome, you’re the victim here”

What an unhappy bunch
Doped up on sex and drugs and tv
All the important things to a society that believes in everything and nothing
Brainwashed, we regressed to a previous life
Hypnotised to act like one abnormal
Take your pick what animal you want to be
You can find one to suit you
You can be what you want
Create your own reality
And sink into the quicksand
Reach out screaming
There is one who will save you when you reach out
Look up beyond the birds and the bees
Become human again
Become complete

A feast fit for a king
A feast of bread and wine
A feast in the presence of the king

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