New Poem
from 
JoeUser Forums
JoeUser Forums
Hey, haven't done any poems in a while but I think this one's ok. Feedback is always good, praise even more so. 
The picture looks three-dimensional but it’s flat,
painted on a wall.
What is this uneasy relationship between sight and illusion?
Why the confusion?
I find I am a mediocre friend.
People have troubles, real troubles,
and I am no use to them.
I must either stumble about in tired, kindly cliche’s
or stand mute and obdurate
because I don’t have any answers, useful or profound.
I am just as damaged as any of you,
fucked-up, confused.
I think life is hard and uncertain and there’s nothing to be done.
I find myself most often pathetically mum.
People in Africa are surviving on less than a dollar a day,
While I spend 20 bucks on a lunch I cannot even finish eating.
Our newest social disease?
Obesity, coupled with debt and other excesses.
People are starving, are dying, are fighting,
while Americans have to avoid consuming too much than
is good for us.
What a stupid irony.
Karl Marx was right but nobody wants to say it.
Opium is alive and well among the masses.
Catholics on thrones in Rome condemn condoms and feminists,
while twelve-year old virgins are raped and given AIDS.
Ignorant cruelty is the most insidious disease.
I am an angry young woman, getting older every day,
soon to find passionate blood is too hot, too unnerving,
to maintain for long.
As we become more technologically advanced the potential for ethical debate
grows with every passing day.
It’s a charmed place to be in, yet full of unknown pittfalls,
for even as we debate the ins and outs of moral rights and wrongs,
struggle for the meaning of life and the way things should be done,
we become more alone, more encased in our own problems,
and the world grows a little darker as we do nothing but talk.
The picture looks three-dimensional but it’s flat,
painted on a wall.
What is this uneasy relationship between sight and illusion?
Why the confusion?
I find I am a mediocre friend.
People have troubles, real troubles,
and I am no use to them.
I must either stumble about in tired, kindly cliche’s
or stand mute and obdurate
because I don’t have any answers, useful or profound.
I am just as damaged as any of you,
fucked-up, confused.
I think life is hard and uncertain and there’s nothing to be done.
I find myself most often pathetically mum.
People in Africa are surviving on less than a dollar a day,
While I spend 20 bucks on a lunch I cannot even finish eating.
Our newest social disease?
Obesity, coupled with debt and other excesses.
People are starving, are dying, are fighting,
while Americans have to avoid consuming too much than
is good for us.
What a stupid irony.
Karl Marx was right but nobody wants to say it.
Opium is alive and well among the masses.
Catholics on thrones in Rome condemn condoms and feminists,
while twelve-year old virgins are raped and given AIDS.
Ignorant cruelty is the most insidious disease.
I am an angry young woman, getting older every day,
soon to find passionate blood is too hot, too unnerving,
to maintain for long.
As we become more technologically advanced the potential for ethical debate
grows with every passing day.
It’s a charmed place to be in, yet full of unknown pittfalls,
for even as we debate the ins and outs of moral rights and wrongs,
struggle for the meaning of life and the way things should be done,
we become more alone, more encased in our own problems,
and the world grows a little darker as we do nothing but talk.