Bitter Harvest

 

Forgot for a moment

how this world breeds

such fine resentment.

Cultivate

a soil of hate

and drop in seeds

tainted by the deeds

of the inward turned

to grow the bitter herb.

 

Hail to the hard harvest.

There is no celebration.

Every day is every day.

No rules to feed the fools,

so existence becomes hedonism.

 

Calculate the sorrow

of another crop

yielded from the mud.

This endless field

of slime, and shit,

and lies, and betrayal.

Enough to feed

the whole world

for years,

but we starve them,

and so,

in their hunger,

they become gluttonous.

 

Feasting on the day,

only to starve at night,

and awaken again,

vile and ravenous.

Back in line

for another portion.

Never suspect the poison,

because it feeds

the endless addiction

of self image

and self abuse.

 

Keep feeding you,

until you believe

that all life

comes from me.

Anyone

who says otherwise

is an enemy

that wants to see you dead.

And your life erased.

Ground back into the dirt.

 

So easy to deceive,

as we suck down another mouthful

and head back to the field.

Bet you’d never believe

what’s real.

In fact,

you don’t;

even when you’re shown.

You’re already thinking

about your next meal.

 

 

HG – 2022

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