From Which They Receive No Substance Poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
From Which They Receive No Substance
How do I feel,
About the escalating disrespect...
Shown to me?
And the pride I have taken,
In priding my identity?
That is a very good question.
And I am glad you asked it of me.
First and foremost...
I am not the one to be traumatized,
By an awakening...
To realize my entire existence,
Has been a hoax!
And that is why I stride with a dignity.
Everything about me that 'appears'?
Is what it is!
And my consciousness,
Has never been sold to be stripped away from it.
Everything about me that 'appears'?
Is what it is!
Others may be here to make excuses for themselves.
And...
Out of mind and feeling out of place to escape from fates.
So unfortunate are the ones who have been 'hoaxed' to live...
Their lives they do not value.
And support themselves...
On a faith that is replaced on a daily basis,
From which they receive no substance.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/10/2024 6:59:49 PM # 1.0.0.1119
A life of substance, is always one that is desired. But what of the substance you speak of? How do you define it? For ones man's junk is another man's treasure. Substance is what we make of it. Leading an interesting life in the gallows, could be considered a life of substance if that is what he desires. Are you trying say he is saying pity me I have not lived an interesting life, one full of life changing, learning, and ever different experiences? Do go on, as we investigate the brain. Put it under some light. What is really their? Hmm, I can only wonder. Maybe it is some empty as the air.