In the controlled chaos, that is my mind, there is a compulsive desire to point out deflections from reality. I still feel a sense of loneliness as only a fee are willing to admit that the narrative of American greatness is a lie.


Art is The Wind of Change

Art is the wind of change
Fluid motion pirouettes sustain
Consecrating truth bereft
Conflicting with narrative death

Death of what is real
Wishful fantasy parody
So those with wanton greed
Can blatantly disguise disgrace

Disgrace disguised as virtue
Disgrace painted as blessed truth
Atrocities defined as destiny
Atrocities glorified with Christianity

While artists paint contradictions
Words flow with salacious defections
From the story line created
That is the altered state

Forcing all who dare to see
Putrid Ugliness masked as destiny
As our vision is not clouded
By biases desperately validated

It is like a constant video loop
Anxiously viewed as a steward
Of our vision that dissected
The falsehoods detected

Once seen, it cannot be unseen
Fighting dissolving decency
I force the feelings of despair
Into creative dissertations aired

For a while the words salve
The inflicted wounds scrawled
Into my ever present subconscious
It is a temporary barrier diminished

While in the realm of opinions
While in the arms of a loving companion
Feeling lonely still in the race
To discover a sense of grace



Poetry by Kee Zealy The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 13 times
Written on 2026-02-25 at 12:14

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