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 contactevansayet@gmail.com.


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