A Statue to the Fragrance of Sin (to the fallacies of cancel-culture players)

A Statue to the Fragrance of Sin (to the fallacies of cancel-culture players) Glenn W. Harrell 03-21

This poem reflects upon the fallacies of cancel culture–their failures at engaging self-introspection- their refusal to impose mature value-judgments necessary to maintaining personal balance and societal wholeness.

The history I made today may haunt me or praise

And the more I look back slyly trapped in her gaze

Too early to be schooled from a glance or a stare

I misstepped in believing the jaunt or her dare

Might a statue be erected of these my devotions

My misgiving, pointless fortune, ebb and flow with the oceans

Leave them right standing my son for their full meanings are yet known

Be they good or bumbling-bad, all these seeds you have sown

Time-laden history, coddling my friends, resisting foes

Is as diamonds encrusted, suspended with ancient, taut bows

Keep your history before you, this teacher you will find

Is the friend you have yearned for, the poet so kind

What a book being written and such hope in the sky

Days of life tell our story from our birth till we die

And if statue of copper or bronze likeness stands

Let no pride or vain ego shove to make its demands

Simple is our past though wrangled with deceit

We could run were it not for the clay on our feet

And if those much more righteous think our life too obtuse

Perhaps tardy and riddled with scorn and abuse

Proud their metallic-cold hearts, chest thrusting with dare

They too face the lynching mob of cancel beware

For no one soul is lacking the fragrance of sin

Stooped, sullen, prison-prickled malady, all people sick within

O ye without sin, gather your stones, crush the sinner forthright

You may cast though your conscience be calloused to the light

Tis your self you have canceled, your own history defaced

Toppled self-righteous statuesque, foolish, blinded, erased

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