Loose Morals

By Samantha Exner

If I were not clung to the concept of morality,

To society I would have loose morals.

If I were to wear a ruby red nose and two wrong shoes,

They would say I’d have a few loose screws!

Yet why say it is me when I am certain it is you?

Laugh, laugh and cackle!

Let us dance in bright colored pants,

Let us turn and twirl to the treacherous band!

Ignore your pretty shackle.

Pow pow pow!

Do you hear the drums as we dance in this golden ballroom?

Did it feel like it signaled impending doom?

Yet you continue to dance in your fancy gowns.

Perhaps it was not a drum—

Perhaps, instead— it was a gun!

Drink your wine,

No, please— continue to dine.

Feast on the rewards of labor you did not do.

Children cry and they die,

Yet until your golden palaces fall,

It is not you who will suffer but the rest of all.

Yet only us but you will cry.

I cling to the concept of morality,

Yet in society I have loose morals.

You will diagnose the rest to have loose screws,

Labeling us dumb or unwell,

But it is you who will burn the forests,

The rivers, the sea— no one will ever be truly free.

The snow will redden, the grass will dry.

But the problem? It is me.