“Crumbling” (poem)

A crumbling society
Running on fumes
Smacking lips at a menu
Of well-done dooms

A culture of cheaters
Lacking drive to evolve
Who marvel at problems
They won’t try to solve

A ship sinking swiftly
As the band onward plays
Full of anxious souls searching
For reasons to stay

For ethics of envy
They new virtues drew
A pantheon of gods
That look just like you

O nation of children
Taking respite in lies:
Your gods will forsake you,
But never shall I.