So, you seek duality,
Compatibility in opposites.
You are armed with preconception
Filled with determinant knowledge.
Cultural tenets pull you into it,
You know, that cesspool of conformity.
The constant blather about equilibrium,
The vogue of the day, your crowd,
Maintaining balance, harmony,
But your duality is shallow, seen.
Watching you walk down the street,
Passing the less fortunate shows,
That slight side step, hip outward,
Compassion is your hypocrisy, and
That…..is your grievous duality.
A disease permeates your life,
Your body language the diagnosis.
Actually, you are the less fortunate,
Those that live on the street,
They are in touch with reality,
You, only hubris and counterfeit charity.
© 2011, Donald Harbour
Donald Harbour Poetry 
Whoa! What an indictment, and so true, unfortunately, of a lot of people. Nice work with the pairings in this poem (fortunate/less fortunate, charity/selfishness).
-Nicole
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Very well stated. This hits on so many levels. My favorite line: “Your body language the diagnosis.” I like the subtle play also on seeing – looking in and looking out.
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‘Compassion is your hypocrisy’ – what a fabulous line.
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I agree with all that. And I specially like your final couplet.
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Whoa Donald, your piece made me think of politicians and their empty rhetoric.
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