Loathsome Is The Quality Of Strife Poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

These days lived,
Are not going to be remembered...
As award winning to praise.

Loathsome is the quality of strife.
Whether one chooses to pick,
Who represents it better...
From either the left or right side of it.
With heard promises hoped,
To be believed...
That a remedy to cure all ills,
Is, without question, just around the corner.
And everyone is 'gonna',
Stop waving their white flags in defeat...
To welcome and rejoice in its forthcoming.

'Everyone seems to deny,
The presence of reality...
No longer no one can hide.'

~Not everyone.
The ones who don't are often victimized.
For identifying truth more despised today.
By those refusing to admit,
Their addiction to delusions.~

'Is that why you're still waving,
That white flag high as if proud of it? '

~Someone has to represent,
The presence of reality.
I've stopped trying to convince myself,
I can feed and meet all my needs...
On promises made to me.~