We're a quick-fix society--
sometimes the solution bring more pollution,
physical sickness, confusion--
Sometimes resolutions and revolutions
produce an infusion
Of instability,
sin, inability
To beneficially
see within...
We're a quick-fix society--
but quick fixes inflict and nix us,
pimp-tricks us
drug addicts us and wrong-acquits us;
does not forgive but forgets us--
A quick fix is the hitch
(not to the bridge but to the ditch
filled with Troubled Water)
not laid down for us but on us;
forced and thrust upon us;
Demonic plague bubonic chronically
Oppressing, depressing, suppressing
the instinct to be n sync-
chronization--
not a boy band or a nation,
but a spiritual relation...
Communications of revelations--
Dreams to be seen;
Not just heard, not just words,
Not contrived and psycho-analyzed...
...but REAL-ized
We're a quick-fix culture;
tend to look down on our problems
Like a vulture,
we pounce and devour;
Pick apart but disregard
the heart, that part
That gives us Life--
By the time we stop flying
and circling over the issue, the dying
and dead tissue, lifeless
Once priceless;
now waste,
wantonly sacrificed
In the name of our Ways,
In the games of our haste,
unchaste; we stand blamed
Too calloused to feel our face to the flames--
not of Hell from the next life, but this;
to which we're all witnesses
Yet we can't tell we're inside it,
mindless, and trying
To contrive a cure...
...which itself is impure
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