Just the same Things

I hear all around me, all the time,
screams of torment
songs of pain.

But can not poetry
simply be
statements of facts and not
falling drops of tears?

It is always as the society
needs it to be(even poetry)
Always what it needs to
be able to see
Always what it wants to
be able to perceive.

So please, if you're not
in shape,
stand back,hide, let the pretty
shapes flit past you.
If you're not happy all
the time, flee; for they
will blame you for your troubles,
curse you for your silence.
Oh, so you are lonely
now? It is the warm gift that
people love to share.
Plunge into the icy cool depths
of all things fake, smile
while the shallowness drowns
you. Maybe there will be
some acceptance there.
Happiness too.

So I tried now too, to
state the facts, my facts.
But there are none. Just
tired attempts at finding
poetry.

It has long since slipped away.