Poetry: The Poet is describing we humans on our human condition.
When the beloved fail to realize the folly of their ways
When sin becomes their pleasure and pain fills up their days
All night long they wonder they refuse to see, and to believe, or truly they just don’t know
That within them lies the answers, the facts, to problem solve
If only we could swallow up our stinking pride and embrace their silly notions and their pain
They think themselves Famous, Infamous, Notorious
They have no shame, they exhibit not a shred of guilt, should they?
For with in themselves these faults they over look, but surly they must know?
But, any way they’ll get it done by hook or crook
Everyone of us knows that “You are nobody, till somebody loves you”
Or at least that is how the song is sung and so it is proclaimed
Bless ole Blue Eyes and Dean
But, in our heart of hearts we truly must believe
That we aren’t even alive, until we ourselves, first learn how to breathe
Or should I phrase it another way,
Until we love ourselves how could we expected anyone else
Naturally we deceive ourselves and anyone who would care to sing
Whether we are searching for their love or just a way to fill up our days
But, beware the aftermath, it is sad but, true that this ritual could go on till the end of days
And there in lies the problem with us humans, humans that we are
A thought by Sinbad the Sailor Man
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