Do You Feel For Anything Other Than Yourself

I've heard that poetry won't get us very far But what do they know? Where a few of my words blot a napkin is my One and only refuge So in essence It helps to keep my sanity from this heartless world My broadened perspective Where my eyes are held open can never be completly shut I write What I see I've heard that my words will be forgotten When I am dead and gone I will be dead and gone But no one can touch this moment; the freeing of my happy soul It is mine alone, regardless of if i am made of cartillage or just bone I've heard that as a woman I am overly emotional But what do they know? Dismayed I feel every pulse of life around me and the drip drop of of of the spring rain I hear the sound of sobbing of people a thousand miles away I feel the bloodshed I smell the smoke I see the heart break Emotional? By that you mean I can feel... what do you feel WHAT DO YOU KNOW? By your silence I can tell that you cannot because you forgot You think that expression of any sort other than patriotism is a waste of time? keep your eyes on the prize a.k.a. work ethic and you will get ahead Numb your heart To the real world You call this the real world? where the realness is hidden by the dumbing down of society For you see Your senses are dulled When you no longer can understand the artist and her poetry no; not poetry but your own sense of empathy desire, fear, laughter, love, hatred, confusion, blatent disregard You do much to spit in the face of our creator feel it all or all will be lost our sense of justice, and empathy should be kept at all costs