The Son From America. (a poem)

Oh, to be content!
To have all in the world that you need
and to want for nothing more.

How I envy the simple people
who are only simple to those of us who
are trying desperately to justify
our dissatisfaction with life,
with ourselves.

To those of us to whom a destination,
or a car,
or a house,
once acquired
know that certainly, everything will be
alright then.
But who will be so Disappointed,
No,
Distraught
when we find that with the destination
or the car,
or the house,
now acquired
not only doesn't provide the bliss we were
Hoping,
No,
Praying for,
but leaves us with an undefined
Emptiness.
that we can no more fill than the Grand Canyon.
And, so, spinning into confusion,
we redefine.

Altruism, Charity
Certainly this must be the key.
Give back to the little people, the simple people.
for we know that, certainly, everything will be
alright once we do.
But we are so Distraught,
No,
Devastated
when we find that after the altruism, the charity,
not only don't we find the fulfillment we were Looking,
No,
Searching for,
but we are left with only

Ourselves