Spoiled Children
Ken Pullen  –  copyright 2011
Everywhere my eyes do see
nothing but a languishing mass
from sea to sea
of spoiled children
That’s mine, give me, give me, give me me
me
more, more more
out of my way
what’s behind the next door?
Clamoring
auctioneer’s hammer
hammering
so much over indulgence
in their excitement nothing is
heard
but inane stammering
Handouts galore
as they go from one thing to the
next
only themselves reflecting in their
eyes
instead of being happy with a slice
they demand, expect the whole pie!
Been spoiled
coddled, pampered
from birth
the stench of their soiled
habits are
stinking up all this earth
Given everything they ask
refusing to undertake the necessary
task
consuming
consuming
consuming
like a wealthy drunk from a
Sterling silver bottomless flask
Lazy
spoiled
rotten
children
refusing to heed
that which they most need
the truth hidden in the shadows
of their insatiable greed
Anything goes
snorting self absorption
laziness
over indulgence
up their nose
like a super model
breathing in cocaine
give me more, more, more
there’s never enough
their never ending refrain
reveling in ignorance
treating insight
the truth
wisdom
awareness
with disdain
Preoccupation
with things
nonsense
lies
illusions
distractions
never in cessation
all across this nation
from birth to death
it’s all about
me, me, me
as far as the eye can see
through this increasing darkness
the weight of which can be felt
smelled
for the stink
of evil is in the air
as the blind masses
scurry about like rat’s on a sinking
ship
without a care
for the truth
as they gravitate to the lie
like non-potable water
taking the lowest path
least resistance
at their master’s
bidding
sewer dweller’s
whom they serve
without swerving
evil a constant
continuing
growing mass
like malignancy on steroids
within
consuming
spreading sin
like endless gaggles of geese
crapping all over everything
They push away thinking
substance
something to own
hold in the hand
mount on the wall
truth
wisdom
understanding
vision
runs through their open, grasping
fingers
like sand
Lazy
spoiled
rotten
children
refusing to heed
that which they most need
the truth hidden in the shadows
of their insatiable greed
their rotting spirits
empty clueless minds
are all my eyes can seem to ever find…