Is it my age
That is making my eyes see things?
Is it my advancing years
that is making my ears hear uncommon things?
Long ago I was told by the grand old man
in subtle words of scheming manipulations
that he is no better
than the lowest filth
in the strata !
But I didn’t believe it
I was a believer in the sureness of the minds
Having lofty aims of uplifting men!
No, now I realize
We are all petty creatures made from clay
Painted over to look exotic and fashionable
Harboring earthly desires,
crawling in the gutter of our sinfulness!
Don’t be disappointed for this holy place
This place of pilgrimage
This too was made by human hands
Of many frailties!
Xavier Bage
6/27/2020
Composed: Oct 2019
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