In my happiness,
wasn’t it written,these lies?
These ideals, my mind pondering,
and I beg it’s cease of such notions.
But how it would not dare force the hand of society,
to grasp the door handle of thought and truth.
For what use would they make,
of this inessential expressions, thoughts?
They would declare them fraudulent, fruitless,
an effort wasted on will and want.
A populace lost in love of leisure,
and yet they think me the idle sort!
This poem can be read on poetry.com –http://poetry.com/poems/245087