Injustice is so common

Injustice is so common in this world of ours,

As common as flies are in the hot and humid climate of ours.

And we are only making it more humid for ourselves.

We are suffocating ourselves.

We are choking ourselves,

And our faces are strained with contempt and guilt written all over them.

We pay money to people,

Under the guise of our getting our work done.

Without realizing we are already doing in the next generation,

Who have now ready made corrupt idols to idolize.

Injustice is so common in this world of ours,

As common as flies are in the hot and humid climate of ours.

We pride ourselves of the money we earn,

We are the would be ‘richest’ of the world,

But we sell,

Sell our souls in exchange.

For us the materialistic bastards of the world,

It is money that shines,

And rest of all that remains fades into the pale shadows of insignificance.

Injustice is so common in this world of ours,

As common as flies are in the hot and humid climate of ours.

We rape woman,

We even sell the raped woman,

We don’t stop there,

We sell even the fruits of those black seeds,

Only to keep them from where they came,

And yet we claim to be as innocent as the make believe saints we see ourselves surrounded by.

Injustice is so common in this world of ours,

As common as flies are in the hot and humid climate of ours.

And as far as the author is concerned,

He is lost,

Lost between the extremes he talks about,

One being that of the innocent love he finds on innocent streets, corners and tables of coffee bars,

And the other being the abject disgust and lust of the human being which ceases to be,

And takes everything down with it.

Every day the poor author is forced to commit,

Commit himself to choices which he finds way to baffling,

Baffling to the extent that even his words oscillate between his thoughts,

And taking with him the innocent readers of his,

To wherever he is headed.