Modern Hollow Men Poem by Godiah Imbukuleh

We are the hollow men,
The stuffed men,
Beggars,
Powerless, burdened with responsibility
That renders us impotent.

Our voices are meaningless yet convenient,
We have nothing to offer but trouble,
A nuisance,
Our presence revolting,
Like the revenant, Dr. Stockmann, or Robin Hood.

It is our fault that we are so mediocre,
We made safe choices
To be useful,
We have no free will.
Even those we love pity us
For our lack of spine.

Some people are forgotten when they die,
But we are invisible when alive.
Our powerlessness is laughable to them,
Our children derive motivation from us,
They swear never to be so pathetic!

But this is how the world ends,
Not with a loud bang but a whimper,
Not with screams but deep, sorrowful sighs,
As we learn to accept our fate.