Mind Of A Nation Poem by Corinne Watt

Instinctively within was the knowledge
Of the goodly divine
My conscience holds record of its existence
But the wayward path is mine
I adamantly will never admit
However foolish I may be
I claim my wisdom to be the elite
Persuading others to so see
I urge you, come parade
In awe of your own sweet success
Be free to choose your own ideals
Never consider others, go for excess
Take the norm and the natural
Creatively twist it to drastically alter
Think not on future penalties
In self expression do not falter
Let greed be your utmost fulfilment
Hate - not bottled but avenged
Gossip - merely fruitful conversation
Murder - sweet, sweet revenge
Lying - vocal, tongue sharp protection
Insolence - verbal armour and shield
With that whispering conscience as a reminder
We created our own fatal battle field.