Reality Tv
I live in an improbable bubble, insulated from humanity's ugly warts,
here there are still reasons to believe in God.
Of course, I see what's on the news, but isn't that just a reality show?
I feel overly exposed to the world's injustices as a nightly recipient of
"Breaking News!"
The sky is always falling somewhere, it seems.
And every day, I'm reminded there are places in this world
where freedom is nonexistent,
and the sound of children laughing is but a dream.
In some inconceivable places, folks only see what they are told to see,
and only think what they've been taught to think;
not here, though, someplace else, far away.
Thousands of children die every day,
or so I'm told, over my morning coffee.
But I'm in my bubble; none of that is happening around me!
Isn't it all just reality TV?
Madmen are in charge of the madhouse,
but I'm not mad enough to care,
it's only happening somewhere out there, far away from me.
But should I venture outside of my bubble, I only see what I'm told to see,
and I only think what I'm taught to think; now, isn't that a coincidence!
And yet, in my bubble, I'm free to think and do as I will, aren't I?
Life's comfortable in my bubble; there is plenty for all,
and I'm happy, aren't I?
I'm confident nothing terrible can happen here,
my rights are protecting me, aren't they?
Perhaps, I should stay silent in my improbable bubble,
after all, people aren't really suffering; it's just reality TV,
isn't it?
(Dramatic Monologue)
2/11/2018
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.
