in escapists hatred s known
into worlds forever thrown
living lives that aren t your own
while your past you bemoan
dreaming dreams of no significance
making heroes of all participants
making lechers of naïve innocents
with never a thought, no, never a thought, to repentance
lending themes to chaotic dreams
giving thought to nightmare scenes
being wise to all men s schemes
souls bursting at their seams
are we of good or evil sort
or merely sailors, heading port?
a little something I jotted down after reading some science fiction collection of short stories in the late 80s.
I m surprised that I remembered it