Harder I try,
more I get into it.
The swamp holds me tight,
Nothing seems right about it.
It is a long tale of bearing,
While sharing and caring.
But the world is mum,
With the dimwits not enough daring.
To uproot or uproar that loud,
But being a part of a crowd.
Comfortable and illusioned in their vibes,
Hallucinating single second in epicurean lives.
The slap is tight on the realized ones,
The reality strikes with the bombs.
It is better to be ignorant as the fools live,
No meaning should be made of this life, is what I think.