so we sit and sip morning cups,
bravado keeping us safe from
no news that is good
news as countless
flames burn across
desert lands and infants wash up on freedom's
shores
before the lawns gets
trimmed and a neighbor your
kids played with hits the
headlines only to be
labeled "a nice guy"
you went to church with,
while his petite
wife sent
memos off reminding all
of the annual bake sale,
sure to raise not quite
enough to paint the barn
but more than too much,
as the Mercedes clearly shows you
three small faces deprived
and hand picked for effective
representation of how your
life
is perfectly fine
given the fact that you do nothing for those in need
and repulsive guilt is the
message intended
to open the escape way for your
soul if you
only send twenty three cents a day
multiplied by three hundred and sixty five days
which in exponential terms
becomes so many numbers (608,637,500.00 to be exact)
that a blinded mass
of self indulgent sinners
looks North as ninety six percent of
the till faces a
fate three small faces would gladly except,
for to be burned up as
quickly, would be the easy way out,
for they do not exist unless a humble man walks
them in to your living room
and force feeds them to you
before you remotely
remember that the big game
is on and you change...the channel
No comments:
Post a Comment