Lost

by T. Smith

Looking around turns into a whirlwind of desperate retreat to a place that has been destroyed by a common goal of equality at the cost of what is equal.
We have lost our way.
We have fallen to outrage at nonexistence.
We are the stampede,
We are the avalanche,
We are the tornado,
We exist in a moment with no goal other than the relief of our pressure and all else be damned.
We flow like a river to a dam not realizing there is nowhere to go but down. Your insights into a life of peace are lost with the hate you silhouette behind a goal of fairness. If you cannot see that yours is the plateau where destruction lingers then it is no place for me to defend.
If tears were an indicator I would weep but the time for that has past.
Now you must own what you have built but your honor is not that of the fallen before you, that of those who paved the way.
Your honor is of pride to lead no matter what hell you discover form a post nowhere near the fire.
You are the sender of messages by a distant messenger.
You have given nothing to this life but a selfishness that is mask as a desire to help your fellow man. Your soul will suffer but our lives will perish. It will be too late for recognition of your deeds because those gone by must not be tarnished. In every sense of the word, in every one who you meet, in everyone who meets your plan…you have lost.




ABOUT THE POET ~
30 something father of 4, Married for 17 years, Love all kinds of poetry that carries a message.


Last updated December 19, 2015