Tend to rest on our laurels
Like it's all moral
To let forethought and cause
Be orchestrated by our royals,
Of oratorical and written history
Our fore founders and traditions be
Inexplicably
Fixed rigidly,
Little heeding to meaning
Or purpose we just serve
As servants surfacing
With little to no coercion
We all discern the rowboat
Isn't propelled by it's own wake
Awoken we hold sway
The oarsman hold the pace,
Keep it straight and afloat
Know when to coast or start stroking
The founders are foundering
Letting the boat overflowing,
We're sinking or capsizing
Forecasters denied the rising
Massive tidal wave
Do we act rightly or behave.
To Be Frank: 