Tipping points
Just what are they?
A phenomenon that doesn’t play
They serve as words you need not say
Their meaning scoffed, and tucked away
It’s easy to go through the motions
As if we’ve brewed naive cold potions
That way we can brush the rug
But really it’s a hole we’ve dug
It’s effortless to live each day
Convincing ourselves all’s okay
The blinded, yes, they’re here to stay
And it has always been this way
Perhaps that’s why the folks like me
Sit back and frown, so sadly
Watching all these things unfold
Like stories that beg to be told
I look to idols, epicte’
The Kant, the Prince, the Socrates
They provide my only solace
Sadly though, these words will miss
How the World Should Work 