1st Place for a Rant
Eugene Rinehart A Rant “What is My Existence?’
What is my existence?
Uncouth righteousness
Or maybe not.
I can’t see it either way, because every way
Is wrong.
Is my path always meant to be shared
By all those who share my socioeconomic status
Was I meant to be something?
Or am I filler for a nation
That runs off the betrayal of its people?
Who am I to say I can exercise my rights.
Who am I to say that my rights are not necessary freedoms
But only those freedoms that my captor
Is obligated to allow me?
Who am I to say I'm someone?
I can’t help but sit and think
Mind blank and yet comfortable
In its indolence as I am unable
To describe the feeling of an ant
Suppressed and yet I know that my country
Tis not of thee, but of a dot on the east coast.
My decisions are made for me and I am
The mortar that holds the shattered infrastructure
Of a nation in denial of its very evil.
Does that make me evil as well?
Am I a part of this game I loath,
Unwilling yet destined to be simmered
In the infinite pot of anti-American sentiment?
White is an insult.
American is an insult.
To be a rich white male in the most powerful country in the world
Is an insult.
I don’t want to be who I am and yet
It’s the best position I could be in.
My country rules everything in a global scandal.
And I cannot undo my county’s doings.
I am taught lies because the people that teach me
Were taught lies.
Yet there is no going back.
Scoundrel, imperialist, terrorist, theocrat
God Fearing Nation Eater;
Might as well be my first name
Although I am a good person, I am not an imperialist
And I sure as shit don’t believe in anyone’s gods.
Why then, am I labeled as such?
Because the child takes the blame
For the evil of the parent
And because curses play their part for generations.
If oil was the blood of Mother Earth,
Then too much of it has been spilt.
Its black ichors over sand and sediment
And human flesh….Its burned into our flesh.
Why would we have all these groups, these factions
That each stand for a single desire
When we could be a world of straight plain good
Standing for life?
No. Not the pro-life that the theocrats preach.
Those who care everything for some infant
That’s just about to ruin some young woman’s life
When the alms they donated to church went towards
Eradicating yet another religion that was "evil".
I don’t understand anything.
I don’t get it, can’t grasp it, am gasping for breath
Under a insatiable force down on me crushing my head crushing my head
And it can’t be stopped but until it gets what it wants.
More Power.
And I am another brick of coal in the furnace.
Expendable; I burn up and am gone
Not noticed not remembered not making the impression
That needed to be made.
It didn’t work…. So they think.
But maybe my outcries will affect something.
Maybe I can out shout the America.
The nation that resembles in every way a rich fat kid.
Greedy, piggy fingers scrounging for every morsel.
Makes fun of the poor and scowls at them;
Until they have something he wants,
Then he’ll kick up a storm and scream and even go to rich mom and dad.
And who’s to get between a fat kid and his cake.
Well, I’d love to slap that fat kid across the face
And send him to the gym.
Shape up.
|
