Paws & Pens: Forty Six Pots of Parabolic Sobriety

ROUND 2 OF STUDENT SUBMISSIONS!! This is another one by el-Aurens Ximenis, whose poetry prowress is beyond compare. This poem is a tad somber and a little disturbing, but truly profound and thought-provoking. Enjoy!

My vision is out of whack, I can’t see white or black.
Axiomatic phrases flash by me, I’m red and dead all the same.
Righteous paths aren’t meant to be consolidations of higher power.
Yet, all I do is consider from whence they came.

Falling away into pieces, falling quickly and falling slowly.
Right when we thought the silence had followed us down here.
Echoes appear, like the humdrum of the Educational Industrial Complex.
Unfair means of aggrandisement should begin to disappear.
Yet we can not make out what we hear, as that is not a stage of development.

Laurel wreaths sit upon our least loved leaders,
And need I mention the nickel in their back pockets?
Clouding their judgement with the pipe dream of placated plebiscite.
Angry, only at the compassion of their compatriots.
Yet, we still mirror their moves in dimming light.

Just a simple gesture of wholesomeness can be unique,
Unusual in its honesty and praxis.
Nothing can compare or compete against it.
Yet, the shadow’s propinquity relaxes.

Keenness to enter a ruinous state of hegemonic degradation,
Encourages the relaxation of our everyday laws,
Except for those that follow us from beyond the grave.
None of those that were asked for, their flaws large and on display.
As for the ones we made ourselves, ask yourself why they’re here today.
Nobody knows, nobody cares, yet we will listen to them anyway.

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