Sickened Society Poem by John Salome

The beast’s cry, laughs of his pain,
We wonder why, he won’t refrain.
For one who’s blinded, bitter wealth,
If love is sickness, what is health?

Where is feeling? Between the cracks,
Intend to get? You’ll break your backs.
Untimely end? A sombre sin,
Tis a game, - cannot win.

For he is anger, addiction, greed,
Oh why we ever feel the need?
You can abide, means all are lost,
Or stand and fight, - screw the cost.

So gaze into, our blissful skies,
Or do so through, unopened eyes.
Whatever pleasures us to seek,
When triumphant fate, is ever bleak.
-JS