made up dreams in poetry

more platitudes than attitude
more gravity than grave
falsifications can calcify
what rewrites cannot save
the purity of insecurity
can make each of us a knave
if you’re the kind of person
who believes in a thing like sin
well that’s the kind of world
you will end up living in
myself I’m not so concerned
with what or whom to blame
I find myself more attached
to determining what is humane