Lawrence S. Pertillar
What Kind Of Wisdom Is That?
How many times do I need to tell you?
As long as you are left to be impressed,
By bling and shiny things to address...
You are going to be kept blinded by delusion.
And truth to you will be too painful to refuse.
To leave you believing 'truth' is your enemy.
And you are NOT going to defeat truth.
Not as long as you believe the doing of it,
Is in your best interest.
'But what about my wants and needs? '
I don't know what words you do not understand.
Is it the bling I don't have to leave you unimpressed?
Or is it my tolerance to accept your needs to feel,
And you find me available to confess this?
Since what you are wanting I will never get.
There is not a physical or mental wound,
That has left me without a memory...
As to how they were achieved.
And where I was to begin to recognize my abilities.
'What are you saying? '
AGAIN? And please don't upset me,
To have me call you a DUMMY! Okay?
Get up off your knees and stop praying for 'things'.
Your faith with a doing of good deeds,
Will deliver to you what you deserve.
That's how it works this side of the Universe.
'But suppose what I get is not what I want? '
Keep praying to suffer.
With a getting that which you wish.
A receiving of repeated pain.
Because the bling in your mind,
You can not resist to dismiss.
'What kind of wisdom is that? '
Lawrence S. Pertillar's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (What Kind Of Wisdom Is That? by Lawrence S. Pertillar )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
A Dream Within A Dream
Edgar Allan Poe
- I Write Because, Asit Kumar Sanyal
- Versed on Love, Ima Ryma
- When And Death Come Calling, Tony Adah
- A Sure Feeling, Luis Estable
- DESTINY, Seira LNlee94
- I Do Well Down There, Luis Estable
- Seasons Past, R B Seals
- I Call Me One Today, Luis Estable
- Never Ending Love, Sandra Feldman
- If Those Roses Could, Luis Estable