Preachy

The places I’ve been
The faces I’ve seen
Now just seem
Like traces of dreams.
A man searching for anything that
erases the scenes
of sacred unspoken hatred that has left me broken and naked,
writhing in the filth that I wallowed in,
haunted by the guilt that I swallowed when
this misfit existed in that less-than-great state.
My mind suffocated in a skull too thick,
My soul laid to rest in some ancient chest; the lock I couldn’t pick.
The pain was directed and pressurized when
my brain was infected and mesmerized,
scouring the towering cities for something to keep me energized.
Bullshitisms were endless like a babbling brook
until a stray thought caught my attention like a grappling hook.
I sharpened my focus and noticed:
If you’ve never been in a crisis,
tormented by sins and vices,
but feel it is your right to be righteous,
then you’re like a man blessed with the eyes of eagles, but remains sightless.
Hollow virtues inevitably hurt you when you let humility desert you.

Whether on Wall Street handling stocks
Or a street corner slanging rocks
Whether rich, middle class, or you only have a little cash
Whether a Jew, Christian, or Muslim
A president, policeman, or hoodlum
We all must admit that the odds are stacked against us.
And I pray for a reincarnation of God to come back and defend us.
Billions of civilians, we have the capacity
but lack the tenacity to restructure the system drastically.
Bureaucrats and senators are predators,
Trying to make us victims of the intricate system.
Perhaps an appeal to the infinite wisdom?
Confronting our misery and its long history, the song of victory
can’t be sung until we find a champion that can understand the young.
One who speaks the mother tongue, but unafraid to learn other ones,
unlike this sinister minister, preaching and injecting his hostile gospel.

That’s not to say I haven’t given thanks to the Americans
That toil among the ranks of Samaritans,
But it’s rather convenient
That one people’s punishment is relatively lenient
While the other is stripped of opportunities for achievement.

I wish to rejoice with renewed jubilation,
Speaking in the voice of true communication,
Conveying the only language that can vanquish pain and anguish: service.
With service I find my purpose in writing these verses;
They are a dedication to those who sacrificed lives without pause or hesitation
so that we today can have cause for celebration.
For them, I express the freedom fighter’s will
Through the ink that bleeds from the lonely writer’s quill.

© 2007 Angad Bhai