Ad Infinitum
The sanctity of life but a dream man hangs his hat on
for life has no meaning, more or less, than that which it is given
Breath breed excrete die Ad infinitum
Hero's, heroines, heroism and cowardice are but words, meant to draw lines,
odd imperfect over coats for the squirming upright worms of man.
To die, more or less, a coward or a hero, is still to die.
To rot in a garden gifted with sunlight, to re-toil in the recoil
of the curve ball sent, hither and yon, by the big Mac in the sky.
Blinded by the senses of a two legged critters with opposing thumbs
who can see, could see, but won’t see… who whine and cry
at the loss of even one sense…can the deaf not hear,
of course they can, with every stomp of the foot, every pulse of heat
inducing current, they hear what we hearing impaired don’t.
And the sightless see, with nose and hands and taste buds overblown.
Home grown, a gift placed for every sorrow, so, replace life with death,
death with life, dark with light, hate with love …no matter,
Every action has an equal and opposite reaction
Nothing ever changes.
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