Weren'T You Once Addicted? Poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

Is there anything left to believe in,
Thought to be sacred...
Free of corruption?
And not have its values based upon deceit?

'That depends.'

On what?

'The clarity of the sky.
And from which side of the street,
You are watching the charade...
As the participants wave,
From their gold inlaid mobiles.'

It's a bunch of pure 'poppycock'.

'Don't say that too loudly.
The kids will have a field day with its meaning.
And those into charades,
Are faithfully associated and will become highly offended.'

But all of it is a pile of...

'Hey,
Don't worry about it.
Weren't you once addicted? '