my self-righteous scribble

Scribbled Verse

my self-righteous scribble.

1.
windswept winters, numbing the soul, walking through this life, sidestepping many a pothole,
dreams dreamt when innocent and young, now being marched to the gallows, to be mutely hung,
remember those moments, freely soaring across the azure sky, to the now where the death march plods on, to be interred in the cold ground to lie,
all those sentiments, visions of joy and peace, now scarred by reality, shorn repeatedly off like used up fleece,
where did those noble aspirations scatter, idealistic principles that burned bright, now seem hardly at all to matter,
why did we end up the way we are, mere husks, bodies regurgitating the daily charade, silent amongst the hoopla of this deadened parade,
finding a job, then hanging onto it for dear life, attempts at paying the bills, settling the never ending rent, trampling over others, till consciences are dumbed down and…

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