So many drops of pure knowledge,
Feed my brain full, sloppy porridge.
Rereading some parts of the Bible,
Small waves first, here comes a tidal.
Why was I born in this hellish period?
I don't mean the 80s, they were good.
Lost causes, lives, minds and more in 2024,
Hollywood uses God's name in vain more.
Good vs evil but demons keeps winning,
Praying each day despite slight sinning.
None of us humans are living remotely perfect,
Am I a failure as my career dropped like a jet?
Psychosis, meds and counselling but don't fret,
Quietly became awakened, so I'm not done yet.
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Author:
Shaunmatthewcpoetry (
Offline) - Published: January 2nd, 2025 02:16
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 19
Offline)
Comments2
I say - It's neither the bad old days, nor the good old days, but the same old (past) and new (present) days. A bit of the Bible says, in paraphrase, 'Don't say 'The good old days', implying they were no better than other days.
You know what, yes you have a point there.
An apt descriptive poem of our reality’s daily quagmire.
Appreciate it.
Cheers 🙏🏻👍🏻🕊
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