I Ask My Good Angel

Reading Time: 3 minutes

Firoz NewA poem by Firoz Abdul Hamid

They say trust me,

All I see is betrayal of trust,

The planet dilapidated; nature wrecked in the name of progress,

Livelihoods of natives fades,

But they say this is progress.

 

They say trust me,

Capitalism will bring you a life you can only dream of,

Indeed it did bring nightmares,

Capitalism bred industries that put the self before the common good,

It put desires ahead of morals,

Yes indeed it did bring nightmares

We saw bankers plunder in no name of virtue,

We saw families’ lifetime work desiccate,

And we wonder why there is a deficit of trust in global markets

 

They say trust me

We will govern you justly; we will protect you perpetually,

Yet they govern to protect themselves,

To protect their loyalists,

Plundering the sweat of the masses for their own thrills,

Pay us in taxes more they say and we will elevate you,

While they jet set and ski on, the masses live from hand to mouth,

As hearts break at the dishonour, homes wrecked from hardship,

They justify their excesses with buying loyalists adjudicators,

And then they wonder why there is a trust deficit in the system

 

 They say trust me

We will show you the path to salvation,

In their eloquence they preach God,

Yet they are far from godliness; they live in contradictions,

The scripture is a means to their worldly adventures,

They scorn the true faithful with fear of not conforming, of not submitting,

They remain silent in the face of injustice, they cheer tyranny,

The tyranny that keeps their comfort and sanctuary,

And then they wonder why people leave God.

 

They say trust me

We will enlighten you, educate generations to come,

Trust your children with us,

Yet they teach our minds to recede, our confidence to diminish,

They teach us to build walls, harbour dissent, discriminate,

They wreck our souls with avarice and caprice,

A soul that struggles between desire and virtue,

And so we have a generation in turmoil,

A generation in search of inner peace and purpose,

And then they wonder why there is violence on the streets.

Good angel
© Leslie McNeil, MarVeles Art Studios

They say trust me

With you allegiance,

We will honour you on your lands of birth,

Yet our rights betrayed, our honours purloined,

Our homes levelled, our birth places perished,

Our histories annihilated, memories lay in dust,

We search for honour in new lands,

Lands of hostility; we go for our souls, for our children,

We go in search of renewed hope, in search of trust in the rest of humanity,

And yet they wonder why we would die to migrate.

 

They say trust me

We will save you from your despairs,

The tyranny of your daily existence,

What arrives at our door steps are business deals, free market transactions,

Businesses in search of bottom line enhancers,

Drilling, plundering our birth land for economic gains,

Lawmakers and businesses in deals to protect their own bases,

Our daily tyranny remains, our despairs remain insurmountable,

They cheer the tyrants, they honour the impostors,

The game of chess they play to sanctify power and position,

They deface the faithful, the ones of who truly trusted them,

And then they wonder why people revolt.

 

So when they say trust me

I search for my good angel,

To simply ask what exactly should I place my trust in?

Let them sell my land for money, my home for their prosperity?

Bargain my soul for their position and power?

Allow my faith be a recreation for their delusions?

Be hoodwinked by tax evading businesses who promise us security?

Pilferage my honour, desecrate the next generation for their madness?

 

When they say trust me

My good angel dives deep into my conscience,

In search of my purpose of existence,

It sees the world sleepwalking through progress,

Lost in the delusion of self claims in pursuit to an everlasting life,

A world racing to nowhere at the expense of humanity,

I then ask my good angel the purpose for my being,

It whispers – that purpose is most certainly not to trust them.

It then says – Only trust them when they honour you before themselves.

 

Read further in the channel Ethics in Business.

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A poem by Firoz Abdul Hamid They say trust me, All I see is betrayal of trust, The planet dilapidated; nature wrecked in the name of progress, Livelihoods of natives fades, But they say this is progress.   They say trust me, Capitalism will bring you a life you can only dream of, Indeed it did bring nightmares, Capitalism bred industries that put the self before the common good, It put desires ahead of morals, Yes indeed it did bring nightmares We saw bankers plunder in no name of virtue, We saw families’ lifetime work desiccate, And we wonder why...

Reading Time: 3 minutes

Firoz NewA poem by Firoz Abdul Hamid

They say trust me,

All I see is betrayal of trust,

The planet dilapidated; nature wrecked in the name of progress,

Livelihoods of natives fades,

But they say this is progress.

 

They say trust me,

Capitalism will bring you a life you can only dream of,

Indeed it did bring nightmares,

Capitalism bred industries that put the self before the common good,

It put desires ahead of morals,

Yes indeed it did bring nightmares

We saw bankers plunder in no name of virtue,

We saw families’ lifetime work desiccate,

And we wonder why there is a deficit of trust in global markets

 

They say trust me

We will govern you justly; we will protect you perpetually,

Yet they govern to protect themselves,

To protect their loyalists,

Plundering the sweat of the masses for their own thrills,

Pay us in taxes more they say and we will elevate you,

While they jet set and ski on, the masses live from hand to mouth,

As hearts break at the dishonour, homes wrecked from hardship,

They justify their excesses with buying loyalists adjudicators,

And then they wonder why there is a trust deficit in the system

 

 They say trust me

We will show you the path to salvation,

In their eloquence they preach God,

Yet they are far from godliness; they live in contradictions,

The scripture is a means to their worldly adventures,

They scorn the true faithful with fear of not conforming, of not submitting,

They remain silent in the face of injustice, they cheer tyranny,

The tyranny that keeps their comfort and sanctuary,

And then they wonder why people leave God.

 

They say trust me

We will enlighten you, educate generations to come,

Trust your children with us,

Yet they teach our minds to recede, our confidence to diminish,

They teach us to build walls, harbour dissent, discriminate,

They wreck our souls with avarice and caprice,

A soul that struggles between desire and virtue,

And so we have a generation in turmoil,

A generation in search of inner peace and purpose,

And then they wonder why there is violence on the streets.

Good angel
© Leslie McNeil, MarVeles Art Studios

They say trust me

With you allegiance,

We will honour you on your lands of birth,

Yet our rights betrayed, our honours purloined,

Our homes levelled, our birth places perished,

Our histories annihilated, memories lay in dust,

We search for honour in new lands,

Lands of hostility; we go for our souls, for our children,

We go in search of renewed hope, in search of trust in the rest of humanity,

And yet they wonder why we would die to migrate.

 

They say trust me

We will save you from your despairs,

The tyranny of your daily existence,

What arrives at our door steps are business deals, free market transactions,

Businesses in search of bottom line enhancers,

Drilling, plundering our birth land for economic gains,

Lawmakers and businesses in deals to protect their own bases,

Our daily tyranny remains, our despairs remain insurmountable,

They cheer the tyrants, they honour the impostors,

The game of chess they play to sanctify power and position,

They deface the faithful, the ones of who truly trusted them,

And then they wonder why people revolt.

 

So when they say trust me

I search for my good angel,

To simply ask what exactly should I place my trust in?

Let them sell my land for money, my home for their prosperity?

Bargain my soul for their position and power?

Allow my faith be a recreation for their delusions?

Be hoodwinked by tax evading businesses who promise us security?

Pilferage my honour, desecrate the next generation for their madness?

 

When they say trust me

My good angel dives deep into my conscience,

In search of my purpose of existence,

It sees the world sleepwalking through progress,

Lost in the delusion of self claims in pursuit to an everlasting life,

A world racing to nowhere at the expense of humanity,

I then ask my good angel the purpose for my being,

It whispers – that purpose is most certainly not to trust them.

It then says – Only trust them when they honour you before themselves.

 

Read further in the channel Ethics in Business.

Do you like this post?
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