Weeping is for the obsolete

as a humble man I own no land

The skies feel beneath my soul.

when did society decide they were more like Trump and less like me

lighting the fires under love and inequality attacking the poor to give the rich more when has our judgment lost its way

I can feel Gods tears overcoming my own overwhelming nothingness sewn into my being. what is the meaning to all this madness.

why is this beacon of light escaping my soul why do I feel like we're condemned. and heaven forsake us.

The greed of the world can't exist without the pain of the innocent. for my eyes open for all to see.

and I see the despair of my people clinging to fading hope. looking up and breathing in the clouds trying to find reprieve.

for we are creating a path to obsoletion.