What would I change?

Such a simple question,

For what would I not?

When confronted by

The desperate avarice

Of the Me Generation

The Endless scandals of shallow fame

And the ambiguous love of strangers,

How could I not wish to tear it all to the ground?

How could I not wish to start anew?

What child of Pandora does not shrink from the sunrise

And croon for its ‘set,

As monsters of yore?

Are we not beasts?

Are we not devils?

Are we?

Yes.

 

We are monsters that build fortresses.

We are beasts that die in protests.

And we are devils that heal the sick.

And yet

We are none of these things without joy.

We are none of these things without passion.

What makes a man human but his brain,

The true center of emotion

Devotion

Love?

What would I change?

Such a simple question.

The Human Amygdala

For Joy.