THIS PLACE DOESN’T FEEL LIKE HOME

Morning breaks across a restless land,
Where truth gets molded by a changing hand.
Yesterday’s disgrace earns praise today,
While conscience is condemned along the way.

Reason once could challenge what seemed wrong;
Now outrage measures who may speak and belong.
A louder voice can make deception stick,
While honesty gets buried twice as quick.

Morality has learned to change its clothes,
Depending upon which direction anger blows.
Principles survive until the price grows high,
Then convenience gives conscience its goodbye.

Compassion often comes with sharpened teeth,
A pleasant word disguising hate beneath.
Mercy gets demanded by the cruel,
Then disappears when vengeance makes the rule.

Justice wears whatever the mask will sell,
While righteous language sometimes shelters hell.
Standards bend according to the name,
Then equal deeds receive unequal blame.

Privacy gets traded piece by piece,
Promising comfort while destroying peace.
Cameras watch the places people roam;
Listening devices quietly occupy the home.

That expensive phone knows how to catch the eye,
It learns what makes us angry, laugh, or buy.
Human weakness turns to measured gold,
With every private tendency tracked and sold.

Friendship shrinks to icons on a page,
Disagreement quickly mutates into rage.
Strangers judge a lifetime from a phrase,
Then celebrate destruction as they gaze.

Children learn their value through a screen,
Chasing manufactured visions of pristine.
Growing hearts compare themselves each night
To edited illusions built beneath a light.

Beauty gets corrected past the skin,
Until nobody knows where truth begins.
Smiles appear where misery resides,
While loneliness stays carefully disguised.

Suffering itself becomes a show,
Recorded first before compassion starts to flow.
Someone falls and lenses quickly rise,
As human pain becomes another prize.

Fame can make an empty person king,
Provided enough followers gather in the ring.
Wisdom matters less than being seen;
Character gets crushed beneath the machine.

Language bends until the words collapse,
Definitions rewritten through convenient gaps.
Meaning changes when the truth offends,
Leaving common sense without its friends.

Freedom somehow comes with tighter chains,
Each surrendered piece exchanged for smaller gains.
Control arrives disguised as something kind,
Then quietly builds a cage around the mind.

Technology advances every year,
Yet somehow leaves us lonelier living here.
Machines grow capable of learning what we are,
While human decency feels painfully far.

Knowledge reaches places once unknown,
Still wisdom struggles finding somewhere home.
We map the heavens, calculate the sun,
Then fail to understand what we’ve become.

A species clever enough to alter genes
Can barely tell what basic virtue actually means.
Hands capable of building brilliant things
Still manufacture countless forms of strings.

Greed gets introduced as enterprise,
While noble language hides the compromise.
Those holding power promise something fair,
Then somehow leave themselves the largest share.

Politics turns neighbors into foes,
While manufactured fury steadily grows.
Labels make it easier to condemn,
Until we stop seeing the person in them.

Faith gets mocked as something left behind,
While every strange obsession gets called refined.
God becomes inconvenient to the proud
Whenever His commandments challenge the crowd.

Humans reach toward immortality,
As though eternity were circuitry.
They dream of minds preserved beyond decay,
As if death itself can be engineered away.

Silicon becomes another promised shore,
Where mortal consciousness might live once more.
A manufactured paradise gets planned,
As though Heaven could be coded by a human hand.

Something about that picture chills my bones:
Forever packaged, marketed and owned.
Salvation turned into another sale,
With corporations writing mankind’s tale.

What happens when a grieving heart believes
The person it has lost may never leave?
A voice returns, familiar eyes appear,
Repeating memories only they could hear.

Would sorrow question what the screen became,
Or simply run toward something with their name?
Could desperation make illusion whole
When circuitry can never prove a soul?

This age keeps racing somewhere without brakes,
Ignoring every boundary that it breaks.
Progress becomes sacred by decree,
Regardless what it costs humanity.

Daylight sometimes feels more strange than dreams,
Nothing underneath is what it seems.
Reality gets filtered, bought and staged,
While ordinary people live enraged.

Oppression doesn’t always come by force;
Sometimes it smiles while setting out the course.
Exactly what to purchase, think and fear,
Then calls the resulting prison freedom here.

Depression settles quietly through the crowd,
Hidden underneath a culture screaming loud.
Plenty surrounds us, still the spirit starves,
While artificial pleasure leaves its scars.

Human beings were never meant to live
With every waking second forced to give
Attention to a thousand distant cries,
Advertisements, arguments and lies.

Somewhere we confused excess with gain,
Then wondered why abundance brought us pain.
We filled each empty moment full of sound,
Yet peace became the hardest thing around.

I look upon this world and sometimes ache
At everything we’re willing now to fake.
Sincerity feels rare enough to prize,
While manipulation wears a thousand ties.

Still my faith remains beyond their reach;
It doesn’t need approval from a speech.
The culture may decide that God is gone,
Yet morning keeps arriving with the dawn.

My heart knows this existence isn’t all,
There waits a day when I will hear His call.
Beyond the pressure weighing down this place
Lives something untouched by our disgrace.

Heaven needs no artificial sky,
No engineered existence when we die.
Peace doesn’t come encoded in a dome;
My Father already knows the way back home.

When that appointed hour reaches me,
I’ll leave behind this fractured reality.
The noise that followed every earthly mile
Will fade beneath a far more peaceful smile.

Deception won’t be waiting at the gate,
Nor hatred finding reasons to create.
Fear won’t dictate another waking thought;
Love will never need to first be bought.

The crushing weight this world has learned to make
Will lose its grip with every step I take.
Depression’s fog will finally disappear,
Replaced by something never governed here.

I won’t miss the show or staged applause,
The twisted definitions without cause.
My soul has never wanted plastic peace
When God’s own promise offers true release.

Until He calls, I’ll finish what I can,
Still imperfect, still a mortal man.
I’ll speak what conscience tells me must be said,
And keep my faith through every road ahead.

This world can keep its counterfeit display,
Its hollow idols destined for decay.
Humanity may manufacture thrones,
But never breathe salvation into stones.

Let engineers construct their endless dream,
And billionaires finance the grand machine.
For all they build, there’s something they don’t know:
Where human souls depart when bodies go.

So let tomorrow bring whatever may come;
I know this earthly race is not where I’m from.
When God decides my journey here is through,
I’ll finally see what faith already knew.

Beyond the madness mankind leaves behind,
Beyond the cages built around the mind,
There waits a peace this world could never own—
And when God calls, I’ll gladly journey home.

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