The Society We Call "Modern"

This is a poem I wrote during a creative writing workshop and was published in Inspired by Thomas Hardy - An Anthology of Students’ Works 2020, edited by Faysal Mikdadi. The anthology can be purchased at The Thomas Hardy Society's Shop.

He is the fog who obtains the brains, 

Chops them up and jams them back into us. 

Their emotions baffled by society’s figure:

Status survived. 

Happiness did not. Lost in the

Whirlpool of propaganda propagating ignorance when knowledge surrounds.

The dove dodges the striking bullets, 

As armies of trees, united, 

Stand proud, 

Hoping they will make a noise, something crudely loud. 

The Earth’s self-destructive tears, 

Turned on by the intoxicating fire burning its lungs and its ears. 

Bold opinion is a treat, 

A treat we would all like to meet. 

Conditioned voices we all want to hear, 

Struck down by the oppressed lightning storm. 

Happiness would be great in any form. 

Yet, all that arrives in our eyes is one subtle tear.