The Broken Modern Mirror

.

The Broken Modern Mirror

of the Modern Developed Western Soul

.

(A poem)

Possibly by Ross Lombardi (?)

.

.

There are two talks in our head,

A Brat and a Saviour

One hates the world, in so, many ways

The other berates that behaviour

.

The Brat is a toddler

A mere child

That is me

A savour comes from somewhere we can’t see

.

Sitting on the shoulder of your mind.

Your mood can quickly darken and blacken.

Between the bad and the better,

These are the conversations that happen

.

Rants The Brat at me.

“This is the reason I am pissed off at Kevin”

“I just get six things! While He gets all Seven!”

Again, a Saviour says to me,

“Remember, that you live in Earth heaven.”

.

Moans the Brat

“Everyone is better, I have a low success score!”

“I am lonely, depressed and for stuff, I want more!”

A Savour reasons for me

“Part of you knows that ‘This’ is not a cure!”

.

The Brat rants in my ear

“Reasons I am pissed off”

“I cannot get all I want; all the stuff is far too dear.”

Soothes a Saviour

“Tonight, you and your family will sleep without being in fear.”

.

Cries the Brat

“The reason, I want ‘IT’ is to feel happy again”

“I love the bright plastic, the trite and inane!”

Warns the Saviour

“Chasing mere stuff will drive you insane!”

.

The Brat stomps his foot down

“Reasons, that mainly, I have good reason to moan”

“I have kids that keep shouting and a wife feeling too tired to ‘bone’”

A saviour replies

“But you do not ‘live’ a private purgatory of constantly being alone!”

.

Rants The Brat out of breath

“The Reason I hate”

“I am tired, fat and in a physical state”

Ask the Saviour

“Should you then maybe, have shared, that food that you ate.”

.

Moans The Brat in a constant complaint

“Reasons I look such a sickly green hue…”

“I have again eaten too much, hungover and I will spew”

Warns a saviour on my shoulder.

“The real cause of your illness is your self-centred point of view”

.

Rants The Brat once more

“Reasons I shout”

“I am frustrated, annoyed, I want to get all that crap out”

Says the Saviour once more

“But just ‘you’, ‘yourself’ are not what this world is about and for.”

.

The Brat glares at me.

“Reasons I Scream”

“The charities bother, poke, and make me feel mean!”

Calmly, Says the Saviour to me

“The amount you spend of mere stuff is grossly obscene.”

.

Rants The Brat,

“The reasons I yell”

“The gross, the poor and the needy that smell!”

Says the Saviour again,

“You forget that many live in Earth hell.”

.

“The Reason! The Reason! The Reason!”

“Rants! Rants! Rants!”

This Brat all the time!

Berates The Saviour “Be thankful dear child,”

“… For reasons” …

… “I have now given more than nine!”

.

The Brat is a toddler

A mere monster

That's me

A savour comes from something higher we can’t see

.

A savour is not any one faith or religion

It is any reminder from above,

That many come in a form of hope, a friend or family relation

It may be a poem, note or a song from a station

.

Sitting in the corner of your head

Your soul can quickly burn and blacken.

Between the bad and the worse,

Inside yourself,

These are the conversations that happen

.

It could be you next that needs charity and love

And if that happens then from that same source,

From the same source up above

From above, and beyond in the air,

In the head of a stranger,

The Saviour may prompt them to care

.

Through Allah, God, or Faith (X)

Fighting the debase part of us that is rancid

Reaching us each,

This metaphysical practice is standard,

That through each other as Saviours

All our prayers may be answered

.

A gentle reminder,

As a type of saviour to you, I have now said,

Where you are now is dumb luck

And that luck can turn on its head

Next time you feel mad

Attempt to feel Thankful instead!

.

.

.

!

Please contact:

[email protected]

To offer me any freelance writing or art creation jobs!

(Or just pass my name around... I need the work!)

.

!