The Pricks

Ambition revered, one must be the best.
Meekness and humility to destroy and detest.
We scoff at the weak or the poor or content,
Saying how much better their time could be spent.
We pay with our minutes and hours and days,
Getting trinkets and trash for time to raze.
We miss all the moments and memories too,
Treasure eternal always with you.
We can't see the future the past is so dim,
What is the point how can we win?
Philosophy, science, writing and art,
What is the point where do we start?
Of money, of power, of things there are many,
Ethics and morals, do we have any?
We can see them and touch them and feel them that's true.
What's the drive for these things? Have we a clue?
The pleasures of life in the flesh that are found,
Exist everywhere and amply abound.
Sex and debauchery, sensation and lust
These are the things we consider a must.
Drugs and experience power and greed
All are necessities these we all need.
Love and acceptance, kindness and trust
All are expendable not worth the fuss.
How did we get here? It seems so insane.
Trying to balance life causes such pain.
What is the answer what can we do?
Is this simple question impossible too?