A word with the Creator
If you are out there
Do you not hear what I hear
Is it not resonating with you
Have they all just become
A cacophony of noises
Do you not see what I see
Or has the menagerie of movement
Blurred the vision, as if
Cloaked in a haze of fog
Can\'t you smell the stench
Of your creation, rotting
Unable to escape the swamp
Enveloping all of existence
Even if you have covered
Your eyes, ears and nose
You cannot be devoid of feeling
You can surely taste the aroma
Your creation is hurting
Unable to understand
How come you have become so aloof
At first they blame themselves
For their over indulgence
But most realize
They played by the rule
Or at least, they were not as bad
As their neighbor
Then they wonder
How come the bad seem to get away
Instead of punishment
They get rewarded
The power is in the hands of the few
Those that make the rules,
And also break the rules
Yet those that tow the line
Are not allowed to shine
Is it that you tire of your creation
Wasn\'t this made in your image
Wasn\'t it supposed to represent you
Or is that what hurts the most
Even you can\'t seem to fathom
Not again, you are forced to erase
To recreate, but whom to model after
When that in your own image has failed.