Modern Magic (Poetry)

Modern magic mystifies
These old weary eyes
So much for so little
Yet too little for too much
How do you describe
This hollow modern life
Gone are the days
To just settle down
And take a wife

You keep going
Or you just die
Modern life glorifies
Only the beginning
And the bitter end
All the middle is but
An empty space
Decadent yet so tragic
Lacking any purpose

You may call it magic
But it’s all cheap tricks
Recycled, repackaged
Filling your underbelly
With guilty pleasures
Those that play the game
Receive worthless treasures

Modern magic amplifies
Dependence on material
What’s so immaterial
Is what makes it so tragic
These eyes have seen too much
Of these modern magics
It makes the everyday
That much more tragic

Written April 10, 2012