Freedom Of

I wish to say
What I feel today
With reservations that I may
Contradict when I wake

On the morrow, I will borrow
New credos, new morals
To follow, headstrong on
Like Edward r Murrow

No McCarthy headlong
Foolhardy hardnose
I’m an ardent advocate
Against labels & bar codes

Goes against the star spangled
Francis Scott Keye
We are free, America
No oligarchy.

Possibly?

Scarcity

Conventionally
Work is pleasant and rewarding
Conform early, learn the basics
Demonstrate accordingly

But more and more it seems
We've learned a yearning in our core
To be free in essence
To be let loose from the hoard

We are not so sure
Of our purpose anymore
Or the meaning of being
Who we are, and what for

It’s no mystery
Cultures of drugs and promiscuity
Is consistently habitual 
By so many in mutiny

Wanting to be something different
A gem, a rarity
Disease of our society
We feed souls of scarcity.

Hard Lessons

The chateau cast a shadow 
Across every thing on the block
Starkly contrasting 
Our own hovel of tin and tree-bark

Mt. Olympus, rose above us
Gods amongst us mere mortals
Ironic how easy a job
To look down towards you nose to,

The forlorn, the scorned
Misfortunate and distressed
Hard lesson the oppressed
Must swallow and accept

Separatism

There’s been permanent permutation
In our civilization
Face changes that may not be
Regained with further urbanization

Toxins will wash away it all
We’re washed away with it
We’re just ripples sent drifting
Disappearing in the distance

We’ll be a glimpsed reminder
Of an empire that set fire
To environments
For our own lonely dominance and pride it went

Those who already suffer worsen
They always suffer the worse with
Our third person rubbernecking
Concern for our own nourishment

We turn away nervously
We carry our own burden
Instead of sharing the weight
We bare each taking turns with it

When the weight leans into us
We usually just step away
Now we’re all shaking in place
Complacent, it's too much to take

For any one of us
As individuals we're hypocritical
It’s critical, let separatism finish
Or isolate ourselves

Decisions, decisions...

Bowl Cycle

No one seems to notice
They only shrug they shoulders
And go about business as normal
Their ordinary rapport but

I'm spiraling in a downward
Cycle like the toilet bowl
My s### disposable to most
Decompose and erode

They too hard nosed to notice
It's no-ones fault but my own,
I dig my own hole
It's time to climb out and smell the roses

Finish the lyric…

Yourself Self-Centered

Count my blessings yes
Also can't help but count rejections
All the oppression and destress
Built up like bad credit

I’m sick of asking for help
Sick of not being able to get it
Sick of empty sentiments
Just layering on like sediment

Sick and tired 
Of being sick and tired
These mick and mire for hire doctors
Wish they’d quit and retire

Like politicians making decisions
That conflict with their own conditions
The only prescription that does anything
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