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Ignorant Children (Prose Poem) by Stacy Stewart
Is it so difficult to understand that
though there never really was an actual
"Little Engine That Could": a steam locomotive
with a human persona, the lesson about
persistence that the story
conveys, metaphorically, is still true?
Is it so hard to continue to accept
and believe in the spirit
of giving as an expression of love even
after we discover that there never really was a
Santa Claus?
One can only wonder as to what internal purpose
this behavior could serve. Intentionally
confusing metaphor with reality is a way of denying
the validity of reality, I suppose, and in turn
a way of denying the truth.
If this is so,
and God is at least represented by truth if not being
truth itself, then we could also say it's a way of denying God.
But lets not forget the utmost importance of our world:
The Politicians that must at times, swim against the hem of the sea;
therefore
meaning public opinion.
Reminding an outraged populace that even "a war to rid the world of evil"
This is subject to the laws of war,
both the right to wage the war or right to prevent the war.
Thus governs the right to go to war, and in a beautiful denominated
insight; straight in the war; And now you have mayhem in our society.
And the society that believes in order to make a quick dollar
it's best to sue than actually get down and on your hands and knees
and scrubs floors to feed your children.
Then taking the money and chasing the dragon instead.
"Oh Santa how I wish you were real" said the child in the bathroom
professing her insanity; striking her arms over and over again, while as
she proclaims "crimson is overtaking my soul".
While her Father is preaching the bible and mom is working overtime in
her new job as partner, at the law firm down the road. Getting fucked
over by the goverment, yet at the same time getting fucked in her ass
herself.
All because of the cartoon: "The Little Engine That Could".
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