What Self-loathing Type Of Shared Misery Is This?

Why is having more important that being?
Why have we prided blindness over seeing?
When did the type of fork matter over the food?
Why does vice and menace thrive over brotherhood?

When did likes and numbers overtake feeling?
Technology stealing more than it’s healing?
Ten cars, seven houses and still we’re suffering.
It’s as though our progress is backfiring.

Compliments are now passports to love yourself
And without that sham stamp, we doubt ourselves.
We’re dying with loneliness and unhappiness,
An awkward sickness of blueness and bitterness.

Connected on waves, we’re radiated men
Who bow their heads, beheaded by gin again,
Whose radiated brain is eating itself,
Which is – de facto – against the famed ‘self’.

I can’t begin to count the number of smiles 
That have paraded the streets in piles for miles.
Why can’t we fight to smile like this genuinely?
Do we not all want the same thing eventually?

To live a life of meaning, peace in the heart,
Exist in blissfulness and never depart,
Find a heart to beat in sync with for this lifetime,
And in the same heart, the soul’s soul- a timeless chime.

I can’t begin to count the number of deaths,
Those careless, wreckless, ‘accidental’ chocked breaths,
Whose prayers seemed to evanesce through the air,
Whose despair has been treated with little care.

What type of dread pushes the soles of these feet?
How hot the heat? How dark the closet? How beat?
What self-loathing type of shared misery is this?
How bad the crisis? How infectious the disease?

Split us in half and you will find the same exact parts,
Parts often spoken about, painted, written, in the arts;
Heart, love, hate, the keys to hell and to heavens open gate,
The ability to create a new trait, to change fate.

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