The speech is simple--alright, even good
The motifs are coy--effective narrative toys
Yet we pander, an incestuous neighborhood
Words for art or egotistical ploys?

I remember as a kid
This one time I hid
To see who would look
Hours I waited
I even baited
Yet the temptations never took

I sat in the dark, alone
The first time without a home
Eventually, I fell asleep
Perhaps too tired to weep

For something I never had

I grew older, I grew bolder
My heart yearning for a holder
While we are born alone
We can relate, we can atone

I sought solace in compromise
An ulterior motive in which to subscribe
Payments due, yet a place to confide
All the secrets I hoard inside

It was never a fun ride

And I am older still
Maybe not quite 'over the hill'
But, I know what I have learned--
At first; 'safety', later 'acceptance' and then 'a thrill'
Fun takes its toll. Climb up that pole. Feed that pain a pill
We **** and we pillage, orphan a village--all for what've we yearned

We are sociopaths, the lot.
We cared naught.
For the heartache we begot
'We never asked to be here"
"We are free and clear in the direction we steer"
If that is the case,
We only replicate the beast to satiate
Take a moment. Stop and think. Pause and wait.

Have you become the 'good' or the things you 'hate'?