Slave to the saddness

A poem I wrote two years ago.

How can it be no one cares to be free?

Well they say the want a better World

But do they really want that which they claim?

I hope

But what I see is that they would rather loose their souls

Slamming Dope in their veins

or escaping in any way they can

Have we come so far fromThe Garden of Eden that there is no hope to return?

I have repeating in my head a mantra telling myself that we can never return

so we must In-turn create

Something so newso revolut-ionary

let us createa reality we need no escape from

Who will work Towards this???

Who will join me in this quest for the promised land?

It will take much longer than forty years of wandering

I have already Spent Twenty three years Packing my bags

If I must go alone I will

But I would much rather Take you all with me.

So who will Cast off the pain?

Who will open the Infected wound to finally heal it?

Or shall we let it fester?

Shall we let the pain build until it releases in a way we could never foresee

Till we cant recall the last moment we where free

or we can remeber a memory is so vivid it haunts our dreams to a point we cannot see

the light at the mouth of the cave

we have dwelt so long inthe saddness

we have become it’s

Slave!!