(This is not a poem but a treatise in verse to subverse)
Politics is a balance twixt self and society freedom and equality.
As a paramecium, we drown alone as a eucariot, we slime on each other’s shoulders building a fantastic beast.
No longer the cowboy, we must sacrifice for the common good.
But you are not me, and I cannot work for you we need our freedom to tease us upward.
So it’s all grey each decision we must weigh absolutes are hobgoblins but what of morals? absolute rights? are these just men in tights?
Some things are easy. killing is always bad (except the evil dictator)
but what of drugs, which distract our cells but harm no one else? (directly, at least).
The fundamental problem is that we’re all slimed together the individual is a cowboy myth and suicide is illegal!
Can we find universal compromises, global minima in this constraint satisfaction dillema?
Or must we judge each case with a scale balance and weights?
This is the challenge of grey politics.