Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Apr 2017
The unnatural hunger for knowledge we picked,

Knowledge hunt in which we lose self,

Embracing the being offered by books,

Such a pursuit it is.

We harvest what they plant and rarely plant ours,

It’s a world teaching that knowledge is out there,

Knowledge that needs a refining,

The search keeps growing.

The newest and seeming sound knowledge,

Once researched may be refuted,

We’re rare successes in our job,

Right today, disproved before the morrow.

When counter-evidence makes our knowledge void,

Our fat egos get hurt and deflated,

But by our oath, we accept defeat,

But then we begin other searches.

Hopefully, we’d die before they find out,

That we were false academic prophets,

Like how we fought the ghosts of those gone,

May they continue our ghosts to fight unending.
Written by
(Ghana, W/A)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems