Rush of romanticism forced a leftward lunge,
my comrades called out for killing greed.
they talked of revolution and
meek inheriting the earth.
But, I wondered then what?
Meek shall be the masters,
and master shall be meek,
a circle of continuos creation and destruction.
The dead end forced a rightward march,
feed the greed and,
all will be taken care of, said the suits.
The silver bullet and the invisible hand.
It was a fight of unequals for a shrinking pie,
in the name of equal opportunity.
Funnel and trickle down counted for peanuts,
as gap became a crater, moving further away to become different worlds.
One was a road to nowhere,
and the other towards definite darkness.
Left and right, I was back to where I started.
Lost, with a added dose of confusion.
Tired and exhausted I looked with in.
View of the world outside was my world inside out.
With my life in chaos, I looked out for clarity.
The old man was right - changing the world starts within.