Is it wrong to think myself a fool,
As I sit with a dunce cap on a stool?
To treat two parts of me differently,
Will not lead me on a path to serenity.

Living in a world of higher standards.
Where truths are erased by slander.
An old dawn into a stale one,
When emotions burn brighter than the sun.

A mind clouded by societal ills.
Where people of mountains and valleys pop pills.
Where is the love that once was?
Hiding behind a drink with a buzz?

People are blind to a foul system.
Where many are forced to play the victim.
They believe themselves to be geniuses.
Thinking themselves as gods of Mount Olympus.

Is it wrong to think myself a fool,
Sitting here with a dunce cap on a stool?
I've treated two parts of me differently.
Not leading me to a path of serenity.
So, am I a fool or an intelligent being?

© The Wolf of Poetry Forest