Astride Poem by John Sensele

Astride between certainty and doubt, we dither
We shiver on the banks of the River of options
Jumbled up with chaff and a bluff sliver
We crumble on the rumble of humble rejections.

Astride between honesty and fraud, we stumble
When the lure of blood money and possibilities
Flaunted in silver adornments and ornaments rumble
To disown, disempower and dishonor our proclivities.

Astride between greatness and hollowness, we rejoice
Beating our chests in glee and brimming with pomposity
That casts us in a bad because we've killed the little voice
In which our conscience chastised our debility and immaturity.

Astride between progression and regression, we contrive
To score an own goal, to sell our own soul for a few pieces of silver
Minted, slanted, counted and skewed somehow in order to arrive
At outcomes that surrenders bounties and booties to the Queen of Sheba.