I’m worried.

Worried I’ve carved myself

Into a corner of contempt.

Worried I’ve starved myself

Of the people I resent.


Sat atop a pedestal of peerlessness;

Look down, scoff, at all of their cheerfulness –

Ignorant in bliss, ignoring what’s true;

In Unison bleating: ‘It’s not me it’s you!’.


I’m scared.

Scared nothing will change

As long as I live.

Scared all things will change

As long as we give.


Daily gifts of grim mass servitude;

Sheer disdain at the maddening magnitude

Of fools who fight to finish freedom;

Happy to be beaten if others are bleeding.


I’m anxious.

Anxious my utter disgust

Will leave me lonely.

Anxious my complete distrust

Will be my only.


Empty hole once held my soul,

Now only swallows weakness whole.

Great maw between a general people

And the bluff of my ego, my prison, my steeple.

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