Poem: Knowledge or Lack of

Knowledge or Lack of

Knowledge is humanity's punishment
Yet we chug this poison, depraved.
I included, why?

I admire the blissful fool,
Yet I have a notion that such does not exist.
Everyone I have ever met is a poet,
As poetry is the song of our collective human experience.

The blissful fool cares not about his next meal.
He ignores the priest, walks past the imam,
Is illiterate, deaf, blind.
How does he live?
He wouldn't know.

I put myself in his singular shoe,
But when I leave, no time has passed.
Nothing is learned, nothing has changed.
The fool goes this way, or maybe that,
What does he matter, anyway?

Maybe the fool cannot even exist,
No purpose, no use, no reason.
Have you ever heard of anything like that?
Is that what was there before anything?

I pity the blissful fool.
At least our idiocracy has direction,
But what magnitude is it?
How far will it take us
Before finally, we realize
We should never have eaten the forbidden fruit?

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