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by Manas Moksha

Seeing what we want to see
The dance we dance
the same old thang
we know no other

Hearing what we want to hear
The song we sing
Fear and greed is what we brood
They always seem to prevail

The angry mob that goads
our will--
The desire to be heard
Sadness in forgotten originality
Suppression of our greatness
The power of one--
The individual

The originator
A beginning of tomorrow
The end of yesterday

Why waste opacity
A silent sigh of opportunity
The cadence of orange sunlight
treading slow over colored sand

Darkness blankets the common thread
the fear of change
A necessary income for consternation

A dry economy of dreamscape
of unwarranted laughter
soul-biting passion
asking for more


Posted on 10/30/2001
Copyright © 2020 Manas Moksha

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Mara Meade on 02/21/06 at 09:03 PM

Heavy stuff to ruminate through, but those last three stanza's kick butt. Amen and Amen.

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