The Honorable Life

The old folks taught their children the value of education
And toiled tirelessly for this end,
To provide the best of the world's amassed collection
Of knowledge.

The little ones to the schools were herded, to have their minds
Filled as its form would allow,
With what in the future would to them bestow,
An existence patterned after a template of honor
That men must aspire to.

So years were spent and now has emerged
The man and woman, with laurels and medallions
Signifying triumph and release amidst pain gained,
Ready and equipped for the honorable life.

But what is this, a malfunctioning of perfect design;
Walking the streets paved with the progress of the ages,
Men and women beside themselves, diseased with mental maladies,
Waking up to rusty-hooked anxieties plunged in their half-awake heads;
All for honor, the honorable life.

What is the honorable life?

The lion in the underbrush, scrawny and gaunt,
From days of want of a fresh piece of wildebeest,
Wide-eyed, waiting.

The bird on the branch perched, singing now and again,
For the rain that must soon come that unearths prized worms,
Wide-eyed, waiting.

The weeds that are plucked and thrown in the fire,
Thriving by sun and rain, sprouting from fertile earth,
Wide-eyed, waiting.

What of the varieties of life,
Teeming in various shades in abundance,
Wide-eyed, waiting?

Must they all suffer a nervous disorder
To live an honorable life?