THE HUMAN CONDITION

Such pitiful creatures,

we, bending

to every demand of time.

Bad actors

on a shabby stage

we insist calling 'society';

we perform

only old dramas

rehashed new.

So easy, we go through

them absently,

on stage and audience

alike. Bad

actors deserve

rotten audience,

from whose ranks we

stand up and walk

to the creaking

stage and from which we return,

indifference carved to our facial bones.

Such pitiful creatures

such pitiful lives make

out of such stale drama,

such pitiful stage keep.

To time we bend

and time we bend

cyclical, so long

a tragedy made farce.

04.05.2018