The World Is Hell

The World Is Hell

A child cries loudly
As his tears drizzle
The tyrant patriarch
Chastises him over
His hamartia tragica
In grades and numbers
To dictator nothing
Seems ever enough
It seems. Boy believes
In that moment of spite
The world is hell.

A child cries inside
Of his vena cava;
Blood rushes through
His soul, a tainted
Heavy metal wand
Fit snug in the unfit
Immature arms
With the tiny twitch
Of his digits, he creates
Death of a dictator.
His soul burn and born,
As a soldier at nine.
The world is hell.

Enraged roars echo
Into the concrete wilderness.
Drums of warfare
Sound against avarice,
The great natural sin
Of human nature.
These drummers
Exorcise earthly evils
In the parks near
The Wall Streets.
Driving out the demons
Named money-lovers.
Hypocritus laughs in death
As sinners of sloth
Preach justice while jobless
And high off plants
And somehow believe
The world is hell.

Subdued voices squeak
Into no grumbles
But those of guts
A facade forevermore
Must be vaulted
To maintain some foreigner's
Misbeliefs. Choreographed
Lifestyle of soy paste and
Lack of rice and too much lice.
Smile is a mile closer to insanity
Or gulag, depending on who sees
Your lips twitch at the great patriot's
Funeral march. Your friends
Are traitors for bread.
Some call them traders.
The TV with one channel
Proclaims everything is glory
In the land of North Korea,
The best nation, supposedly.
Except for ninety nine percent.
The world is hell.

The printer suicides
In midst of night.
Day before the due;
Deadline; submission date.
No ink to bleed for my
Final draft. I think
The world is hell.

There must be two hells:
One for the ones with
A dollar in pocket.
Consisting of inconvenience,
Meaningless tragedies,
Heartbreaks and annoyances.
I. E. No Facebook.
The second hell is below the first.
For those unlucky to have
Not won life lottery
Of being born into a wrong nationality.
They need no worse hell.
Their world is hell.

Wren

Note: This poem was written a while ago when Occupy movement was at its peak. Hopefully the message inspires you either for good or bad. Comments and criticisms are welcome, as you may or may not agree with my perspective.