Humanity

Turn around the telescope to better see them
As they are. They're small and wretched,
Not at all the agents of calamity, which
They would like to think they are. A race
Of passive elements, like cells, within a social
Structure none can change, can even see to think
To change, they fill their over-rated brains with
Platitudes, cliches, and gossip, endless strains
Of bigotry, and longing for what never was.
They claim they lost democracy, but where?
It wasn't where they work. They learn there,
“Do what you are told.” It wasn't in the voting
Booth, where bosses choose the candidates,
While their employees have no choice than to
Express their meek consent. The world warms.
These little creatures wring their hands and rend
Their garments, thinking that their god-like powers
Doom the planet, when, in fact, they are the planet.
Their acts are the means the world warms, but not
The cause. They built this telescope to view
Themselves, and see that they are large, but, honestly,
They're very small. and, when they're gone, no one
Is going to mourn.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 112 times
Written on 2019-05-28 at 20:16

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