I once got inspired

I once got inspired and then I got tired
I've burnt my purity with politics
and my creativity with activism
I think about US intervention in Nicaragua
when I used to think impressionism and Monet
I hear the pueblos of Guatemala demanding justice
when I used to hear hear the tension of a minor ninth chord
I see indigenous cultures being decimated
when I used to see colors shapes and beauty in all
The color of capitalism was freedom
in my safe bubble of american youth
Why be active? Why talk?
It has entered my system like a strong dark Merlot
the nicotine, the cachaça, the pisco, the corona
now corruption runs rampant
elite governing amock
I've entered the world of social forums and change
an attempt at diminishing the aforementioned atrocities