Poetry

We are so
helplessly absurd.
If we find a morsal of success
it doesn't come with any real smiles
and probably represents
a corruption or pretense.

So we needn't try
to say anything sincere
or to publically
encounter ourselves.
Nobody will receive us.
Nobody reads
and only a few
unwillingly listen.

When they opine honestly
it's always with malice.
If there is charity
it is not in their hearts.