Sitting In The Middle Of Situations Disbelieved Poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

Sitting in the middle,
Of situations disbelieved,
But...
I am slowly adjusting.

Listening to the people,
Quibbling over trivia...
Reduced to bits and pieces,
In discussions rusting...
Over the benefits of broccoli and peas,
Is not for me,
Transforming.

Who's life is invested in this mess manifested?
And why is all of this,
Just a sickening tease.
When so many homeless and hungry...
Continue to go unfed and forced to plead.

Sitting in the middle,
Of situations disbelieved,
But...
I am slowly adjusting.

Am I the only one observing,
A hopelessness regarded...
As a myth and fantasy?

Who's life is invested in this mess manifested?
And why is all of this,
Just a sickening tease.
When so many homeless and hungry...
Continue to go unfed and forced to plead.

A caring done has been lost in squabbles.
Depleting without ceasing,
From an increase of mental instabilities.

A caring done has been tossed to the curb,
As a squeezing from humanity...
Exposes a uselessness felt from those of dignity.
And we...
You and me become completely restricted,
To an acceptance placed before us...
Of a devalued way of life,
Others unconscious declare as their victory.

With an expectation we become use to managing,
An observation that increases...
The sight of insanities.
Delivered by all who are persuaded....
This standard of life 'is' our destiny.
With a fear to be censored,
If we objected with a 'B.S.' expressed.