“The rest of us are compressed
Chest to chest, with whoever stands next.
Dislocating themselves from the mass, others
Take tricky routes,
With the idea that by veering off a little,
Round the swarming
Pack of people, that their own ‘terrible suffering’ would be
Put at bay.
“Why go through the mess and waste all that time,
when I can go around?”
They don’t wait for a minute, they push.
Push and push and
push.
They look full of silence and innocence as they slide aside,
But have the mind of a cheat who lives to attack the honest.
The crammed lot are still ‘suffering’.
We “fools” will soon form a mould for others to
Slot into place.
Though squeezed, we’ll remain fair.
Yet, there will be those
Who always go around,
As the deceptive route
Is the one encouraged now.”
May 10, 2013
May 10, 2013 at 2:53 PM UTC
“The rest of us are compressed
Chest to chest, with whoever stands next.
Dislocating themselves from the mass, others
Take tricky routes,
With the idea that by veering off a little,
Round the swarming
Pack of people, that their own ‘terrible suffering’ would be
Put at bay.
“Why go through the mess and waste all that time,
when I can go around?”
They don’t wait for a minute, they push.
Push and push and
push.
They look full of silence and innocence as they slide aside,
But have the mind of a cheat who lives to attack the honest.
The crammed lot are still ‘suffering’.
We “fools” will soon form a mould for others to
Slot into place.
Though squeezed, we’ll remain fair.
Yet, there will be those
Who always go around,
As the deceptive route
Is the one encouraged now.”
poetry, lies, deception, trickery, world
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