The Human Condition

A snuffle, a lone tear rolls down the eye,

Here is a man who grieves alone, for no one truly understands;

Nothing is ailing him for now,

But there is a deep sadness that seeps into his very soul;

For it is the very nature of the human mind,

To not let go of things that should be left behind;

This is the essence of the human condition,

To suffer in a constant state of perdition;


There is still happiness and joy,

But it is not pure and whole;

It’s almost as if there’s a rot in the brain,

Tearing up an ever growing hole;

A sadness that he cannot define or justify;

Yet with which he must now live eternally,

As friends and family watch and wonder,

What demons gnaw at him internally?

This is the essence of the human condition,

To suffer in a constant state of perdition;


Lo and behold! He is now declared insane,

All complex thoughts and feelings now made inane;

The desperate need to conform is now complete,

Making all sense and reason obsolete;

Everyone wonders what went wrong,

But in their heart of hearts, they have known it all along;

For they are as insane as the man they locked away,

And wear masks so that their true selves aren’t betrayed;

This is the essence of the human condition,

To suffer in a constant state of perdition;