Bright Lights

[QDeathstar]

Lit brighter with
the flick of a lighter.
Flying high above the skyscrapers
looking down on ants,
hearing their rants, their pettiness. perhaps if you weren't so high above them. Arrogant.
Their penchant for petulant pensions
giving their lives dimensions.
Dementia patients know more. how?
Numb to feeling I watch them riot,
losing themselves on bottom shelves
numbing their existence,
their resistance and persistence.
Alienated and degraded
the faded never resonated
through the walls of the Capital. the faded? Like, dead people? What...
Where capital is the capital concern.
Where the hungry yearn to learn,
the bodies burn in turn.the first line make sense, but the second and third aren't as clear. Washington is a bad place where everyone wants money, but also a good place where the hungry want to learn something, and cremation occurs because of the lack of open fields.
The urn filled to the brim
with dim resolutions and grim solutions. re solutions and solutions is very weak.
A dilution of the disillusioned
herded to graze on their graves by suited shepherds. i think you are riding my nuts here. Chillax bro, no one is dying, long as I get my social security check next friday.
Treated like marooned lepers.
Looking for a place
where everyone knows their name,
but the game of fame leaves blame. politicians?, but they aren't lepers. They are those suited guys. This is confusing. Most of the blame the plebs place on anyone is on the government, but that isn't dependent on fame, so I don't get your point.
A quarter hour later,
naked and no more famous, no less famous tho
weighed down by emotion and expectation, their own fault, or, why isn't it?
let down by this great nation, its only great of you wanted it to be, if your going for satire, perhaps quote "this great nation"
the tears fall as you call your mother.
Who calls her brother.
Who kills that man, that lowly man. huh
The virginal Son of Sam.
Coming back down to my fine town
I drown in sorrow cliche
because there is a tomorrow. When
I will again be whored,
my dignity gored. Then that's up to you, but, again the rhyming sounds cheap, whorish even.
I will fly once again
above my fellow men. they might have taken away your dignity but they can never take away your pride [read: arrogance]
With the flick of a lighter
to make my mind brighter. yes, take no action, just smoke a joint.

I hate this poem. It makes assumptions and accusations but fails to present any arguments to back them up. You want to to be above everyone else, but instead of doing anything you decide to light up.

PFFFFFFFFFFT.