And it seems the cruelest way
It is like living without Clark Bars
It is like living without TV
It is like living without joy
And in fact it is all these things.
One gropes for the ethics
That allows such cavities
That buckle and sag
And dangle in the mesh
Like the wrong kind of fish
One lifts one's goggles
To say where is the justice
And where is the recompense
What is the deal, it's
a tough one
Be kind to the soulless
For they know not
what they lack
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
divine. awesome. clever. so good to see/read you! ! ! ! ~~sjg