Comfort in Despair
A Poem
The game of life is rigged
Death always wins
Crawling on our fins
Now obsessed with our sins
From the dawn of rain
Starting small
We have flooded the earth
From the mountain top to every plain
Bringing our stain of pain
To every creature we can
We have lost our way
But it is those with no control that pay
They pay with their health
With their lives
With our lies
We have lost all sense of direction
Compass whipping around
Faster and faster
East bleeding into West
Oscillating between each disaster
Feeding societal consumption
Blinded by a superior psychosis
Accepting fate
Accepting the unacceptable truth
When a person steals, they call it theft
When a politician steals, they call it corruption
But when business steals from the nation
They call it misappropriation
We hold these truths to be self-evident
Not all are created equal
There are no unalienable Rights
When all else is eroded by the seed of greed
There is only but one truth
Every war is not a sequel
But a continuation of the last
Here’s to hoping for the future
Rather than repeating the past
Thank you for reading my work. If you enjoyed this story, there’s more below. Please hit the like and subscribe button, you can follow me on Twitter @AtomicHistorian, and if you want to help me create more content, please consider leaving a tip or a pledged subscriber.
More from this author:
About the Creator
Enjoyed the story? Support the Creator.
Subscribe for free to receive all their stories in your feed. You could also become a paid subscriber, letting them know you appreciate their work.

Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.