A new inspiration

I find difficulty in appreciating
the putrid waste of our baneful society.
I do.

On today of all days,
one would think the tides might turn,
that I might see the beauty of collective insight

On today of all days,
one would assume my rash criticisms to abate,
that I would be enlightened by the true decency of man

On a day like today,
I see nothing but the ill-fashioned conceptions
of a dying species

On a day like today,
I squirm in my discomfort,
bemoaning our disparate state of affairs,
which all disparately believe to be truth

Don't misunderstand

I do believe that there is intelligence in most
I do believe that there is reason within us all

Yet utility can only be derived from application

I don't believe intelligence is employed
I don't believe reason is consulted

What I don't know,
is whether we will ever get it right
whether we have doomed ourselves to failure
whether there is no going back
whether anybody really cares
whether all we have accomplished will soon be for naught

What I don't know,
is nothing.

In a strange way, I just don't want to believe I'm right.
In the strangest of ways, I want to die bitter and angry.

So that I may perish a mortal soul,
who knew the worst to be true,
but discovered the profound ways in which the truth may be altered.

I wish to depart drowning in my own inaccuracy.

So that my sacrifice might breed in man
a new hope,
a new revelry,
a new inspiration.