To the corner store… city centre… outskirts and beyond,
From the deepest oceans to the shallowest lake or pond;
It’s thrown around, beaten, bruised, its reputation torn apart,
Ripped to shreds by morons with their two bit ideal running rampart.
Politicians, corporate zombies and clergymen are the worst – repeat offenders,
They handle it carelessly for their goals, thereafter feed it to the shredders.
Hypocrites, moral prostitutes that’s what they are,
Self-schooled “engineers” working with a classic car;
They simply mask the dents given their limited knowledge, paint over them so that all seems good,
Don’t even bother lifting the thin bonnet to check the engine’s mood;
The end result is that out of health and relevant information we’re cheated,
We’re sent on our way with no brains, no breaks and the reaper right on our heels saying to himself: “Looks like I’ll soon be needed.”
Sure that sounds quite dim,
Yet, take another look and see those who don’t discard it at a moment’s whim;
Teachers, parents, scholars are among them,
All sources from which it may stem,
Among beauty, love, music and other valuable possessions it shines… wisdom.
by Vlad-Ovidiu Adam