When we exalt the dead We forget all their dread A human that we laughed, cried and failed with Soon becomes legend and myth They reached higher than anyone before To bring us to heights higher evermore We sing their name in praise And make impossible, all their ways A person full of heart, goodness, and sin To a person of stature, we could never win And as we revere and anoint We missed the whole point That such reverence and glory Can be attained in our own story Whether as duty, as needed, or for recognition Great deeds are possible within all our cognition We sing the praise of those that past Not for their honour, but for possibility vast Singing the name of a being we cannot attain Is the continued story of humanity’s pain And with their doubts, these legends did not wane And our mythologizing their name is driving them insane
Do you normally dislike poetry? Me too! It turns out, I like writing it, but I cringe at the thought of the stereotypical puffy culture surrounding it. If I want to smell my own farts all day, I stuff my belly with garlic and onions, thank you very much.
Anyway, if you want more poetry without all the stuffy pseudo-intellectual silliness attached, subscribe to my newsletter below. Unsubscribe at anytime. I respect your time by respecting mine. I don’t send frivolous bullshit.
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