Why, O Why? !

O Why is it that you are so distracted By such pedantic, trivial matters when There are truly dark things that must be exposed? ! You need to dig deep with Creation's fine pen. Why is it that you prefer obscure nonsense To rhyming compositions that truly sing? Why do you have to look through the narrow lens Of faux identity themes and what they bring To one's attention? Much more pressing concerns Are avoided by you, as I fear you're trapped In a self - imposed prison and cannot discern The difference between politically correct crap And the scale of real injustice in the world That screams out to be heard. It seems so senseless! Why not rage against the machine with fiery words Instead of kowtowing to the cold liberal consensus? ! My poems are not forged by the fashions of these times. Like the moon they glow and like the sun burn on And on, night and day. For I can translate signs Like the prophets of old. I can gaze upon Light, beauty and darkness in equal measure. Ultimately, my poetry will prevail Because it is concerned with seeking treasures Spawned by the eternal not by fleeting days.