Empty Cans, Noisy Gongs Poem by Cynthia Buhain-baello

How come it is their unwritten rule
That seems to dictate and dominate,
Generalizing us as basal fools
In this a venue for Freedom's fate?

Perhaps the Power of these words
Cut close to where the heart wounds were,
Hidden slyly with meticulous cords
Childhood pain buried deeply there.

Bitter tendrils of forgotten Anger
Wrapped so to keep the Mind enclosed
And morbid Darkness becomes its Ruler
To sit enthroned, with Pride - repose.

When touched by Truth it shrieks repulsion
Poetic tantrums as words fly about
Armed with blind aggressive Retaliation
It stoops to the level of Ridicule's shouts.

Mocking God and what others stand for -
Its a poetic display of empty Rhetoric
Has no iota of basis, hollow to the core!
Exposes a Soul so sad and pathetic!









'Pride goes before destruction, and a haughty spirit
before a fall.'

'The fool says in his heart, there is no God, '
Psalm 53: 1