Grown to adults
and never left the crib
Addicted to consumption
and still wearing a bib
Drunk in the powerful
promise for more
Buying and selling
like a crack *****
Goods and services
Credit or cash
Salvation thrown out
with the next day’s trash

His is the face
of a heavy obligation to stay alive
For he carries the weight
of the dead
and they call to him
from their unmarked graves

Whether seeking pleasure
or running from pain
At the root of addiction
is trauma
Most find it easier
to blame it on genes
than expose
the family drama

It’s the nature of our nature
to be inflexibly unchanging
in view of a landscape
that is constantly rearranging
We can adapt and thrive
or we can barely survive
But, it’s the nature of our nature
to resist much that is changing

There’s a man on the street
dragging bags at his feet
with holes that are leaking sand
All the grains lost
have a dear cost
for time’s running out
on this man
Dizzy and frantic
His life’s in a panic
He’s a dog chasing it’s tail
The chaos ensues
when he can’t choose
Because he’s so afraid
he will fail

Anxiety is the dizzyness
of freedom
and is what I thought
Kierkegaard said
It appears there are many
who would rather no choice
than uncertainty
squirm in their heads

What manner is this in him
as to take no pleasure in vices
He had none
It gave him the appearance
of a pious man
which he was not
If there was pain
from a rough up-bringing
he seemed to be immune
to its effects
much as he was to vices
designed specifically for numbing
It was not a moral choice
Simply a road not taken