Rustless buckets

Oh, how the aridity of our minds grows  

As it becomes peculiarly stranger

All the lies we’ll tell ourselves and others

Mindlessly accepting a selfish guise of- love thy self first

In a concerted effort to minute- everyone else life

And evade the truth of our saddest emotions

Or avoid being humiliated for our innate tears

In fear, we lack getting advanced authorized permission

To acknowledge our own authentic humanity

When our transient minds, bodies, and souls naturally grieve

While we will stop at nothing to display happiness

Births, vacations, marriages, promotions, and graduations

Spend countless dollars to embellish each one- or all

What a fickle species we make of ourselves to heaven above

We blurt things- evolved, progress, dominion like used car salesman

Without batting an eye during our deceptive fallacies

Have we learned nothing of the buried dead and wars yet?

Or dying children in third world counties or ours in local streets?

To what end will our blissful ignorance lead us when in our end

Family, friends, maybe even enemies left behind will still grief our loss

Hidden or otherwise in their own time and fashion anyways

If we are going to pretend, couldn’t it be in earnest betterment?

Or have we truthfully sold out the souls we say… we love?

Poet of the Light © 2023

Photo by Marina Leonova on


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