The Quest...

The Quest begins each morning
as for the rest,
it comes without warning
for you'll not see the storm clouds forming
behind these darkened lens
The furrow to the brow
seems forever in place somehow,
the consternation at the Idiot Nation
and the Children of Entitlement
again, wondering where manners went
and let's not dare speak of refinement

Am i such an anachronism
to be one of the few that sees the schism,
to see the cream has not risen to the top?
The rules are for fools
who believed everything taught at school
meant to keep you in your place
that they determine,
(the ones without a face)
who view from on high
in the world of thieves and spies
but the glint in their eyes is not inspiration,
it is greed

And just how much do you need,
at which table to you feed
or do you sit begging scraps
at the Master's Table?
We are all able,
some more than capable
given have a chance
by some lucky circumstance
or just perhaps by happenstance
but surely not by some Grand Design,
for the good continue to resign
in droves to fall off the Grid,
tired of being led by the blind
Let them search for me there,
in the wooded glen,
let us take our chances there
and begin again...
          07-18-10