Me Me Poet Prose Poetry

Apathy

Such an ideal is the syndication of cynicism.
For in this indictment of others, they can do anything,
but they cannot escape the uncaring.
Such an ideal is sagaciously inept at showing.
For they walk throughout every day with the sun blinding,
but they cannot escape the heat bearing down on them.
Such an ideal is unmerited complacency.
For in this daily life, they have the cognizance,
but they can’t really understand the tumultuous sentiments.
Such an ideal is an amaranthine of disparateness.
For they feel nothing that they feel,
but can they care when simplicity’s complexity turns dialectical?

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