Miasmic atmospheres cover this world
Despair, the food for the thoughts of the one
No relent in diet as one new fad upgrades from another
And yet there is a famine in the soul
And while those in shadow grow fat through fear
We, the masses are starved of an education of what it truly means to be human
The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the one?
Not so. The one is the many and the many, the one
We only have to step outside ourselves to understand this.
Where am I going with this poem?
Some thought new and yet very old