Jun 2014
So simple life would be,
To walk the chosen path
Of such as him or she.
No regard for things of value,
Civility, Traditions or sin
And most importantly,
Caring not a **** for
The mortal encumbrances
In the forced companionship,
Of their Human Fellows.
No strife in seeking redemption,
No apologies offered or received.
Having not one speck of regret,
For their own moral misdeeds,
Living as they do with absolutely
No expectations of friendship or Love,
Or an ounce of human acceptance,
Given, shared or received.
Living a life time of this
Empty lonely existence,
Until the very end.
The lasting price for which,
Is the very path they picked.
To walk the chosen path
Of such as him or she.
No regard for things of value,
Civility, Traditions or sin
And most importantly,
Caring not a **** for
The mortal encumbrances
In the forced companionship,
Of their Human Fellows.
No strife in seeking redemption,
No apologies offered or received.
Having not one speck of regret,
For their own moral misdeeds,
Living as they do with absolutely
No expectations of friendship or Love,
Or an ounce of human acceptance,
Given, shared or received.
Living a life time of this
Empty lonely existence,
Until the very end.
The lasting price for which,
Is the very path they picked.
Misanthrope: "a person who hates or
distrusts humankind"
We have all met one at some point in
our lives. As they circled the drain of
hate and despair. The sad, negative lost
soul, malcontent that has given up on,
or indeed never had normal feelings
towards his or her fellow humans.
To them Life is just too hard, unfair,
evil is everywhere.
Some hide away in cabins in the
woods, making letter bombs to send.
Others fly planes into high rise buildings,
killing themselves to prove their sad and
selfish point. Perhaps they just hold up
within their dark lonely apartment
watching way too much Reality TV.
In the end they all had a choice.
I bumped up against one of these "in the
making fools" the other day. I wish it was
not yet too late for him. Thus this poem of hope.
distrusts humankind"
We have all met one at some point in
our lives. As they circled the drain of
hate and despair. The sad, negative lost
soul, malcontent that has given up on,
or indeed never had normal feelings
towards his or her fellow humans.
To them Life is just too hard, unfair,
evil is everywhere.
Some hide away in cabins in the
woods, making letter bombs to send.
Others fly planes into high rise buildings,
killing themselves to prove their sad and
selfish point. Perhaps they just hold up
within their dark lonely apartment
watching way too much Reality TV.
In the end they all had a choice.
I bumped up against one of these "in the
making fools" the other day. I wish it was
not yet too late for him. Thus this poem of hope.
