Day 70: My People?

(Written March 22, 2011)

Death and madness abound; surround.
Falling through the cracks are the
Helpless and apathetic.
Those we neither seek nor receive;
The wrongdoers who believe themselves wronged;
The bored and disinterested who pretend to themselves
They do not know the consequences of their actions (and inaction);
Could not predict them.

Running away from trouble we create
So naive as to think it's not our fault.
The shoddy carpentry we perpetrate,
Crumbling down around us and we ask
"Why?"

What learned ignorance is this?
what bliss can be found here?
We do not know our story, sow e have no foundation.
Anything we build will fall. HARD,
For it wil have been built on nothing.

But how can we be blamed?
Those of us who ask questions; who challenge
With the intent to learn, are dismissed. Put in their place.
Laughed at. "How could you not know?"
But if we are never told, even when we ask,
What else can be expected?

We are a diminished version of our once proud selves.
Lost, so many centuries ago, to the lure of the unknown.
When we were tending to the health of our communities,
They were tending to the health of their economies;
Planning ways to bolster their egos and land through atrocities.

And now, centuries later, after we have been
Sold, broken, enslaved, programmed, conditioned and "freed"
We cling to that which first dishonoured our names.
We are, all of us, mad.
We are, all of us, dead.