Merely Satisfied


Are we near the end,

or is there more

story still?

Can’t peek ahead.

Don’t know how many pages

have been written.


Is this it?

The height of our crescendo,

before we’re winding down?

Resolving ourselves

back into the figments

of history?


Wound up

and ground down.

Our kind has never

taken well

to thinking

any bigger than we are.


We used to imagine things,

visions of grandeur

and chase them skyward.


it seems

we have been tricked

and manipulated

into believing

artificial dreams

are a suitable replacement

for the real thing.


Is this an intrusion?

Some other reality

stepping into our

vast universe?

Is it our evolution

that robbed us of our

ecstatic visions?


Have we been stolen away,


by the algorithm?

I only ask,

because we don’t seem the same.

The curious spark

in the eye dies

and we’re merely satisfied.


I remember hearing stories

of how we used to hunger.

how we used to wonder

and explore,

but we don’t go anymore.

We sit and wait to die.

We used to wish upon the universe,

now we hope

to be merely satisfied.


So sad

to watch our current decline.

An incorrigible race

tamed in time.

Can we ever be

free again,

or are we at the end?



HG – 2022

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