No Longer Human

I'm not the man you used to know.
I'm not a man at all if you would call
The icing on the cake, the superficial,
Inessential elements of our existence,
Rarefied aesthetic pleasures, painting,
Music, conversation, which so occupy
Our hours, hallmarks of humanity,
The acts which elevate us from the lesser
Creatures' lightless lives. In their darkness,
Their concerns are limited to steering clear
Of being eaten, finding food. These days,
I've found those are my cares. There's
Nothing more I contemplate, nothing
I can keep in mind, except to search
For methods I might use to ease
My pain.

Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
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Written on 2018-06-04 at 17:23

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I was thinking about the same idea quite a while ago. I was wondering how life would turn out to be if there was no art at all. Like you said, one would no longer be human. One would be more or less like primitive animals. Although you say you care more about the basic human needs than the "superficial, inessential elements of [your] existence," I do believe that writing this poem manifests the idea that art is the only salvation from the horrors of existence. I appreciate this poem a lot. Sorry, my comment went a bit polemical.