The Bribe

Amid ebbing spells of intense discontent
       and dwindling   but still-recurring swirls
              of delirious visions of saving the world

the brashness  and rashness of youth in fine form
the passionate madness  that breeds and feeds
the bulk of teen and young-adult storms
              is quickly diminished and soon outgrown

       as comfort and caution
       follow through on their threats
       to make themselves feel as good as at home


while anger abates in tandem with rage
and rebellion fades as sure as we age;
              as sure as we grow   increasingly soft
                                   — perhaps even wise —

as we soon exhaust  our quixotic wild-eyed drive
to row against the current  to swim against the tide

as we sense the dissipation of our raw inclination
              to pay the steep price to fight the good fight
for the sake of doing what our instinctive convictions
had naturally convinced us  was unequivocally right;

as we feel our will weaken to smash the machine
       and out   the scheming skimming croupier
              as he cuts us in on his secret rake

       at the guilt-ridden
       brimming-with-ambivalence instant
       we succumb to the perks of being on the take.


Seduced  by the path of least resistance
giving in to the system we subscribe to the bribe
as practicality compels us  to develop the stomach
       to sheathe our defiance and swallow our pride

as our youthful  highly idealistic
       views  get thoroughly shitkicked
              — battered with matter-of-fact brutality —
by the bloodied boots of experience
                            and the calloused hands of reality.



All grown up  as sure as we've aged
              gone the rebelliousness   gone the rage
       gone   the frequent feverish swirls
                     of juvenile visions of 'saving the world'.