Bsocial Consciousness Poem by Barry A. Lanier

Craven crowds of plastic people, two tongued
Chained to rocks, boxed in coffins,
Thundering overhead, rumbling underground
Red Man forgotten, dead men in their graves
The incomprehensible, now acceptable
Ignoring wisdom and salvation that might save
The horse once lore, now an object of obsession
Dispraising that victory is more and not less
Educated men drifting among glasses, while
Coffins float through the doors of packed cathedrals
Among thin veils of honesty and lavendar haze
Counting passing seasons of the honest and brave
While the clocks run down, timeless and still
Endless days turn to nights, and nights to years
Are yet birth and death, some of the easiest hours?
Shall we struggle from our beds, to nurture the flower?
Once truth and perfection, were our endless search
Now finding mediocrity, as our comfortable perch!
Misty eyed people, in the comfort of plastic homes
Unreckoned, heavy hearts, content with the wrong