An odd poem about how people need an answer to some questions, but will never get them. |
-Blaming Everything- by Keaton Foster At the sun Towards the sky Pointing upward Pointing wide Gesturing All around Blaming everything Not because it’s right But because we can Who we are Why we are here Ever so unclear We want to know At any damn price The answers Deemed by us A rite When a rite Is what they are Least of all God above knows He understands Better than most This mess Once Gestated in his gut Thus birthed Upon the world Delivered To an idea That he alone Would let it go of Unassuming Has been his role He cares not So point if you must Upward and wide Across all lines Over every divide He sees nothing of you And feels even less Because of what we do He has become numb Saturated by A preponderance of “What if?” Blaming everything Is what we do When everything Is what we know Least of all We are the fools We are the stooges Meant to be greater Than we presently are Such a level eludes us And further will So much of who we are What we feel We must become Is convoluted Heavily diluted Watered down By our joined tears Blaming everything Is how we make sense Of what we don’t know Of what we don’t understand It’s our method of survival At any price At the sun Towards the sky Pointing upward Pointing wide Gesturing all around Seek God within the clouds Let him know your anger Feel your resentment Judge him as judgmental When that is what he is Least of all Further I must add As closure To this rhyme That in fact Could go on for miles Simply put That being above God all mighty Just doesn’t care Long before now He cleaned his hands Of us and our time Blaming everything Thus blaming nothing… Blaming Everything Written by Keaton Foster Copyright © 2015. |