Living in a Cluster of Bubbles: A Poem
We live in this cluster of colorful bubbles
cocooned in what we are calling hope
keeping away from any troubles
clear of our end of the rope.
Survival, with stingy crumbs of some real life
that's what adds up for most of the people
working and planning in endless strife
in a groove with spirit that's crippled.
Like robots programmed by insane lunatics
merely duped into believing in our free will
overdosing on faith like some silly fanatics
and living our Hell on a much shared grill.
Hey, what ever befell our free mind
the one predestined for us to possess
with a volition in liking of an avatar kind
equipped for divine reality, I would guess.
Are we those same species from distant past
that shame us with their relics of ingenious make
those that are refusing to crumble under time in dust
still hanging around for eons maybe just for our envy sake.
Could we bust our bubbles and quit lame hoping
which pulls us away from a needed task at hand
responsible for life instead of our helpless moping
to fulfill that ancient predestination of being a Man.