I haven't written poetry in ages, but this little piece pretty much sums up my entire philosophy. Tell me what you guys think
Complacency
They are giants, having long outgrown the chains of ghosts past.
Dead.
And we are complacent.
Complacent with our ignorance,
Complacent with the suffering of others.
Their toil goes unrecognized. We have not seen further.
Yet we are complacent.
Complacent in our inferiority,
Complacent in the futile opiate.
We begun with nothing...and, arrogant, repeatedly we have ended with nothing.
We ignore this. We are complacent.
And we ask, looking into the infinite universe, why life does not abound.
But it is simple: They ended with nothing.
Will we end with nothing?
