a poem
We sacrifice
Too often good for pleasure
Momentary pursuits
Over meaning
Over others
Yet we fail to see
For it doesn’t feel the same
Hedonism always feels good
In the moment
Ignoring the rot it causes
The displeasure in life
Meaning torn away
Tossed aside like trash
The sacrifice to the devil
A selling of our souls
To the lowest bidder
Trading our worth for trinkets
Fooled into the chase
We should change our path
Only I fear it’s too late
For so many of us
Photo and words copyright © 2026 by Jeremy C Kester – all rights reserved.
Note: this is also cross-posted to Poetically Unlicensed on Substack.
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