Derision

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Your need to look at the sky
For answers that don't
Deserve a question
Is a familiar joke.

When one believes the world
Is there for their own
Satisfaction
They'll be in the dark, alone.

You drew several pictures
Of that man again.
Tell me he's special,
The kind you'd recommend.

For where he may lead you
Is none of my business
But I'll interject
When he leaves you in a mess.

The world is wonderful
With rationality.
But we delude ourselves
With our nationality.

For some reason you enjoy
Dividing eachother
Into segments
That dislike one another.

You might be impervious
To derision,
Though I see no hope
In your new religion.


© James Baker