Working for all They can get,
Their lives with our sweat to perfect
Benefiting only, the governing class
People in speeches receiving,
Broken promises and poisoned flowers
That makes the Game offered,
To decent, credulous voting fools
A scheming, totalitarian tower,
Laced with the chains of much too much power.
All else isSaid and done,Including Love,That’s probably what,Poetry is all about.Poem’sLife’s treasures,For mind and soul,That Some,Like, those thatSo, need love,Simply cannot doWithout.
The rest is justAltogether,Frills and flimsyLace,Poetry can’t helpBeing,The innermostWitness,Of the feelingsOf the human race.
PencilThat’s how I write,In the solitudeOf day and nightIn the silence,Of my tearsAnd the memoriesOf thoseThat have takenFlight,I writeNot to cave in,Not to give upBecause,I must still tryTo make,Whatever I canRight!In honor of TruthIn honor of Justice,I fightI write!
Make believe nonsense,That never was,Thus goes life’s circle,Round and round,So much trouble,For nothing found…
We want to save our spaces,But Fraud invades them All,A Babel Tower disgraces,Man’s interchange with man,We put on many faces,As many as we can,‘I’ll fool you with good graces’,Chants the ever, horsed-voiced Crow,My cunning, your stupidity,Will make my fortune grow.EpilogueThe Fools of Follylandia,Thru centuries have not learned,That Truth and Honor bind you,To a better, safer…
Lost, gone too far, Lost, gone forever?Not knowing where or who you really areOr if you’re coming apart at the seams,Trying to live, too many dangerous dreams.
