A Poem: 'The Modern Liberal's Lament'
Poor, poor, poor lucky pitiful me
Born into a paradise too perfect to see
Blessed with it all, but still entitled to more
Too lazy to win we just didn’t keep score
Told I was great just to sooth their own egos
My trophies were large, my accomplishments zero
My “self-esteem” huge, nothing I did much estimable
My rewards grew great, my soul irredeemable.
I’ve never known disease, poverty, hunger or pain
I’d never spent a moment not well entertained
Rat-tat-tat-tat went every sensation
But not a drop for the soul or a hint of salvation
No knowledge, no truths, just non-stop titillation.
Pornography performed love’s final castration
Friends and enemies became one and the same
Now called “frenemies” they were always to blame
Never grown to a man, just a larger permutation
The second, the moment, ourselves our fixation
Nothing great, nothing good, nothing right no sublime
Endless hours in paradise was just marking time
Lennon promised us Eden if we all lived for today
No thoughts of tomorrow, so far, far, away
Paradise found, naught to kill or die for
Instead, we got hell, with nothing to try for
Evan Sayet is the author of the bestselling The KinderGarden of Eden: How The Modern Liberal Thinks. His speeches on similar topics to the Heritage Foundation and the Conservative Forum are both – by far – the most viewed talks in their respective histories. Evan can be reached at email@example.com.