Foolish and Blind

Sometimes I live like a pig,

Rolling on the ground without risks at stake.
But I now dwell with chores and work,
Until the end when all of me decay.

Sometimes I turn off my TV all day,
To be safe from the forbidden I sense today.
The news ramble about bumps and sneezes,
Depressing my mind and gnarling at my smile.

Sometimes I put down all those books,
That foretells an end all men don't hope.
Those so-called prophesies send bouts of despair,
To me who think about the world I thrive.

With all those sadness I see everyday,
I tell myself to be foolish and blind.
If I can tie myself in the bounds of mundane,
Would I still think about all those worldly and cosmic?