Long [Con] Life

A populace of mortals

Grown blasé to

The once quizzical nature of survival

Begin to crave substance in living


Complex and subjective

Humankind still seeks a definitive solution


Arid become lifetimes spent on a fool’s errand

To quench the thirst

To cease contemplation


A sham!

A rancid conclusion!

 Accepted with a wince of foreseeable regret

By the forlorn eyes of our minds


The human’s purpose


Seek out pleasure

Hush both covert and disclosed desires


An identity crisis pends while

Prestige and Self-interest teeter so high

On the shrine of initiatives


They might fall off

This poem is about: 
My community
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: