Fetch
Entangled by the web we weave,
thoughts provoked, but, yet deceive.
Passing blame with slight, of hand,
a golden calf that shines so grand.
An altar set, his words are praised,
a barren field his flock is grazed.
Thirst and hunger are seldom quenched,
until at last, they all are trenched.
Be careful of the book you read,
a soured quill will slay your seed.
Praising ink wrote down by man,
is not the way and not the plan.
A fleeting moment comes every hour,
self-righteous deeds will soon devour.
Open your eyes and see the catch,
He throws the ball while you play fetch.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
