So Estranged

so estranged are we, on this outrage
exchanged, we trek on this range less the sage
powerless, breathless, penniless, even hopeless
thriving mess, we suppress, in disgrace, lots of stress
we transgress, and confess, and nonetheless on hydraulic press,
yet so strange, i wonder how, witn so many misfortunes & miscalculations
we survive, we revive, we are vilified: we are the masters of innovations
we mustered the complications and recovered our reputations.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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