Apoteosis of the Soul
Filled with sarcasm with cynics bound
Collective and automatic.
A paradise lost.
Fueled by success
determined by the system.
Allow it to consume it so become part of the parade
that walks on its cold streets where concrete and steel
determines one's destiny.
A currency that moves.
Destroying any obstacle on the way.
Embracing the image of a fabricated self that dennies humanity for its own sake.
Comments about this poem (Apoteosis of the Soul by Jack Rivas )
Top 500 Poems
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
William Ernest Henley
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings