The Neglected Philanthropist

Fri, 11/06/2015 - 16:08 -- badair
This poem is about: 
Our world
Guide that inspired this poem: 

Comments

badair

Dear Son, 

 

You have questions

like a two year old, over and over

you ask why

to the universe you live in,

and people around you.

Answers rarely come

and if they do 

they are mere confessions 

unwillingly given

 “I don’t know”

 

When questions are unanswered 

they don’t cower away 

they don’t slither into the abyss of your consciousness 

only to be forgotten

They wait, with patience and determination

Your mind is a  glass of water

filled to the brim of these unanswered questions,

And yes, some spill.

Some leak out to allow room for others.

But in the end you can decide what gets to be left 

unanswered

 

So wake up,

see the worth in asking questions, 

see the worth in asking the right questions, 

Because your middle school teacher was wrong.

There are stupid questions 

But there are never stupid answers.

Facts don’t exist, 

Nothing is indisputable.

Your answers are only a measurement.

A measurement of your knowledge and understanding at any given time,

and darling time will not wait for you to catch up,

he will continue to count his ticks and tocks 

As he always has and always will.

 

Ask the right question, 

find your own answers,

Because I need your help.

There are seven billion people living on me darling. 

Three trillion trees, eight million species,

And I love you all the same. 

I am giving you all I have, 

Spoiling you with second chances.

Caving in to your cries for more,

Ignoring your disobedience and disrespect. 

 

I have failed you darling. 

A mother raises her son.

She creates, nurtures, and shapes him.

My beautiful boy, I am dying. 

I can no longer come to your rescue,

I can no longer provide your deep need for more.

You are going to be on your own soon, 

You are going to have nothing. 

Help me love all of my children,

Because I can’t anymore.

Ask the right questions 

find your own answers,

And find the beauty in the beast you have become.

 

Dear Mom,

I hear you. 

I love you.

I am sorry.

I will. 

  

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