The Hands of Ennui


There is an affliction
A modern addiction
The existential crisis
Equivalent

Of watching paint dry

As we post our perfect pictures
And compare them
To other peoples perfect lives
And all our dreams are on
Pintrest

I am losing interest
In all these senseless
Altercations
Confrontations
Distractions
Where opinion
Is a soulless deity

When did the desire for peace
Become a war machine?
When I just want to be

An insidious presence
Endless divisiveness
We mow our lawns
And wonder where the true rebels
Have gone

Our moments
Have become a camera flash
A digital photograph

The hands of ennui
Are at my throat
My voice negated
As soon as I could speak

 

By an anachronistic generation

That lynched the American dream

But still demands that I beieve

The hope of my generation
Is a glutton
Starving

We were absurd enough
To think we would find unity
But this world is shrieking
A perpetual echo chamber

Where ignorance plays dress up

As accuracy

Yet so few…
Are willing to be

Inconvienced enough to change

And I just want to be

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