Distress of Discontent

Dilemma strikes again.
Posing questions to cyberspace.
Many answers to return.
None breathes life.
They offer no intelligence.

Do I ask, as though to pray?
This time I will not.
But the God above, instead to seek.
Who will hear my cry?
Who will see the anguish?

Nothing is right,
I feel inside.
Friends, are you so satisfied?
Discontent encroaches all around.
Who is the one blind to see?

Is the call not greater than busyness?
Is redemption only individual,
With no further implications?
If we should gather,
What is our purpose?

If I come to sit, and hear a little,
Then leave alone, the way I came.
Is that all it takes to satisfy?
Do those motions make you smile?
Am I the only one who sees the flaw?

The flaw I see but solution, not.
I cannot show the rage I feel.
For who would hear a lacking smile?
Does change ever come bottom-up?
Perhaps this is not my place.

Still, I must survive.
Seeking a heart of warmth.
But until exposed, then addressed,
Should the poison surge abiding?
Send the doctor, please, be quick.