Ignorance Is Bliss?
by Seah Greenhorn
(Poem with copyright)
Ignorance
unfortunately,
at times
mislabels
one
a fool.
With pen or tongue
a useful tool, it spews
forth words
as a king.
Yet, deep inside
pain's bell... it rings.
And rings.
So loud you'd think
that all had heard.
But look around.
Does not the many
too act
as if
any doctor's
existence
is absolutely
absurd?
Obviously:
"The doctor's dead."
A phrase echoing
in throbbing heads.
Medications prescribed
set aside
in personal pride.
Remedies not sought
since expensive
thought:
actions unnecessary
if total independence
is not purchased;
bought--Freedom to do
whatever
without cost.
"So a hospital does not exist.
For with agony I do co-exist,"
are daily words
with which the weary
do somewhat understandly
persist.
Extend a hand?
They quickly spurn
if satisfaction
is not swift.
Though others too
groan and mourn
disease laden
they too were born.
But some birthed
with tragic casualties
proceed in happiness;
burying sorrow
with the covering bliss
of tomorrow's hope.
This discovered reality
a blessed help
for them to successfully
cope.
However,
others prefer to nilify
and deny.
Their unhappiness
a constant cry
for others too
to unify against
knowledge.
Divine.
In ignorance,
they choose to be.
This sadly
the uninformed
will not see:
Eternity.
Without life...
Is this Bliss?
Their thinking?
"What will I miss?"
This:
Beauty.
In form, style, and motion.
The ocean,
stars,
hugs and kisses.
Children, pets, vacations.
Plain and simple:
All creation.
For each day given
is itself's reward,
in which to learn.
Never to be bored.
The well-informed
with eyes
in misty concern
do insist. "This is why
all men are born.
To live and love
and come to know;
to understand
The Grand Maker's
Masterplan.
All else is vanity.
A waste.
Foreign.
A grand deceiver's
slight of hand."
But
today's highly
enlightened ones
testify to:
Ignorance's
rule of our land.
Isn't it Bliss?
unfortunately,
at times
mislabels
one
a fool.
With pen or tongue
a useful tool, it spews
forth words
as a king.
Yet, deep inside
pain's bell... it rings.
And rings.
So loud you'd think
that all had heard.
But look around.
Does not the many
too act
as if
any doctor's
existence
is absolutely
absurd?
Obviously:
"The doctor's dead."
A phrase echoing
in throbbing heads.
Medications prescribed
set aside
in personal pride.
Remedies not sought
since expensive
thought:
actions unnecessary
if total independence
is not purchased;
bought--Freedom to do
whatever
without cost.
"So a hospital does not exist.
For with agony I do co-exist,"
are daily words
with which the weary
do somewhat understandly
persist.
Extend a hand?
They quickly spurn
if satisfaction
is not swift.
Though others too
groan and mourn
disease laden
they too were born.
But some birthed
with tragic casualties
proceed in happiness;
burying sorrow
with the covering bliss
of tomorrow's hope.
This discovered reality
a blessed help
for them to successfully
cope.
However,
others prefer to nilify
and deny.
Their unhappiness
a constant cry
for others too
to unify against
knowledge.
Divine.
In ignorance,
they choose to be.
This sadly
the uninformed
will not see:
Eternity.
Without life...
Is this Bliss?
Their thinking?
"What will I miss?"
This:
Beauty.
In form, style, and motion.
The ocean,
stars,
hugs and kisses.
Children, pets, vacations.
Plain and simple:
All creation.
For each day given
is itself's reward,
in which to learn.
Never to be bored.
The well-informed
with eyes
in misty concern
do insist. "This is why
all men are born.
To live and love
and come to know;
to understand
The Grand Maker's
Masterplan.
All else is vanity.
A waste.
Foreign.
A grand deceiver's
slight of hand."
But
today's highly
enlightened ones
testify to:
Ignorance's
rule of our land.
Isn't it Bliss?
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