Politics of Logic
I use to be a man of logic, wrapped within my intellect.
The world neat and ordered, in a word perfect.
Right was right and left was left and n’er the twain should meet.
The politics of thought were static, savory and sweet.
Oh the innocence of youth.
A man of faith with little time to linger on the pain.
I blithely passed by every day, averting eyes again.
And in my house of worship was a box to aid the poor.
I often dropped in my two bits while walking out the door.
Oh aversion to the truth.
But now I am confronted by realities of life.
How caste-like is our system while we smile and twist the knife.
We blame those locked below us for the pain that we inflict.
And struggle to move higher, oh my friends we have been tricked.
How I struggle with the wonder.
What would be the end result if my pie piece should lose a sliver?
Would I even miss it were I a more generous giver?
How much is enough in this democracy of greed?
And where is my humanity within this life I lead?
Oh the questions that I ponder.
Copyright © Reed Hasty | Year Posted 2020
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