Some of the grime that clings to humans souls,
Makes me cringe at my own self,
Ashamed, I wish I knew piety,
At least in my own self,
But alas, I am one and the same.
My guilt parachuting into realms so distant,
Realising how we praise ourselves,
Applauding ourselves as, ‘Intellectual beings’,
We might as well waste away our days,
Picking our noses and swinging from trees,
Slavery, rape strongly ingrained into our history,
The so-called ‘crème de la crème of creation’
. .. Human beings.
To have these men, women share a bit of my essence,
I see myself in the clear light that I am in,
Choosing to embrace the glitter,
Pretending to lie across the fluffy clouds.
Wherein beneath the mirage,
Children wither, women nurse bruises, men shrink from disease,
Humanity drowns in a layer of evil rust,
But who am I to talk?
My own self, a link in this chain.