Is what I'm hearing true?
Are the wrong doers the do gooders?
Is the problem really so clear to them?

Where I live everyone is a recluse
They live only for themselves
Wrapped up tightly in distractions
They can do business and dream
But are often wicked and sinful
Most of the time they only want to do good
Something must be wrong, and this recluse knows it

I retire from my thoughts
I get tired of the scenery
The same kind of trees
And the same kind of roads
I hope we run out of fuel
There's a very special man
I haven't giggled at in weeks

Before I do I digress
Some people have offices
Importance offices with important doors
Important windows facing important walls
I don't know how to describe those people
Or even if I should
I'm simply not clever enough

So I stopped watching television
I felt I was watching a hologram
The words were hollow the suits were hollow
Advertisements are aggressive and manipulate
I can honestly say that since I stopped
I do feel less hollow

Sometimes I hear Ginsberg when I write in my notebook
If I find love or not I'll still have to cope
But my dream is to emigrate
I am fond of America and there's nothing here for me

But where ever I am, a do gooder is what I always hope to be

07/17/2013

Posted on 07/17/2013
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