The Problem Is
Blur the lines to have a good time, nurture your pride, protect your own hide. So easily insulted at every sneeze and blink, can’t have an opinion without a lawsuit on the brink. Songs used to say stop and pay attention, now they say be selfish, raise your fist and get offended. Each and every day we let computers do our thinking, books grow mold and hyperlinks are dripping, with mass hysteria and lies to draw you in, as long as it feels good, don’t matter it’s a sin. How do we split that golden pie of rights? Each side screams this is not a fair fight!
So easy to get angry and shout your stance, your tantrums deserve a binkie and an extra long nap. You’re the center of your anger, there’s no virtue in your rage, you’re acting like a petty child, get off the pity stage. I’m the biggest hypocrite; the guilt is also mine, I should be feeding the homeless instead of writing these curt lines. But it needed to be said, my heart was in full churn, let’s dump water on this flame, let’s not just watch it burn.
You nod at social media and give likes to those citations, but with no screen to hide your face, do you practice the convictions? The heart of this, of course, goes deeper than just labels. We’re hurting to the core but the Medicine’s deemed a fable. You troll, complain and ask for hugs, longing for attention, but what you seek comes from the One they warn me not to mention.