You can’t un-see
Once you’ve cut the red tape
You remain unfree
Shackled thoughts won’t escape.
When it doesn’t make sense
Whenever you listen
There’s no recompense, in a
Taxable war of attrition.
“You won’t have to suffer
If you’d just work harder!”
No nutritional buffer
For empty stomach and larder.
This so-called elite
I just don’t understand
They’d cut off your feet
And insist that you stand.
The only way is up when rock bottom’s been hit
After your mind has been smeared from a fan full of shit
When life didn’t pan out quite exquisite
And you’re chewing real dirt tasting your own true grit.
It’s hard to be wholesome in a world so broken
Surrounded by sleeping minds afraid to be woken
Fractured leg-acies left bereft and unspoken
Whilst taken and took as a novelty token.
The denial of free thought and free speech through laws
Show the fights of the future won’t be physical wars
True freedom lives between those ears of yours
In the mind of a rebel who trebles their cause.
Making the mark
But it’s benevolence burst
Daunting and dark
A world that awards the worst.
Respect; it retreated
Future is frantically fearful
Discussion gets deleted
Tumult is tyrannic and tearful.
Riding the rails
Halfway heaven and hell
Fighting yet frail
Fortune? Forever it fell.
When you’re told what to think
By populist rhetoric and martial law
When you’re told when to blink
Twenty twenty two is nineteen eighty four.
When your mental health’s on the brink
From constant pressure galore
And your heart starts to sink
Twenty twenty two is nineteen eighty four.
When your only relief is drugs and drink
And your spirit is broken to its core
As they dismantle every link
Twenty twenty two is nineteen eighty four.
When your future’s as bright as invisible ink
Wondering; is it really worth fighting for?
When dreams so big are forced to shrink
Twenty twenty two is nineteen eighty four.
Sword says to Pen
“I’m tougher than you,
A cock to your hen.
You’ll suffer for true.”
Pen says to Sword
“I embrace what I’ve heard
And for your reward
I gift you my words.”
Sword was most pleased
Thinking Pen was relenting
And Sword’s bluster ceased
From the furious venting
But Pen sat and smiled
Knowing words can’t be owned
And Sword then beguiled
Had now been dethroned
Pen to Sword whispered
“Words belong to one and all,
Every madam and mister,
And pride comes before the fall.”
The Mockingbird calls the shots
While politicking puerile plots
The blood it coagulates and clots
And History memory forgot.
Tears pour down Sorrow’s cheek
Hope cries out bruised and bleak
A universal losing streak
Would you want this Earth if you were meek?
The sense of loss from Zeitgeist’s grief
Innocents incur broke belief
Future frowns at Tomorrow’s thief
While pulling teeth for pure relief.
In a world of fear and anguish
In a time of hate and loss
When you’re weary, worn and languid
When you’re nailed to your cross
Remember those that love you
Remember those that care
Remember those above you
And remember who was there
For this life is never promised
And there is no second go
Do your best to be honest
And cherish every second, slow
‘Cause when it flashes there before you
You’ll want to reminisce
On the moments life adorned you
With what love truly is.
The tree of life
Is embedded in grief
The rolling tears
Are a falling leaf.
Yesterday’s sorrow
Is tomorrows joy
Life’s tapestry interwoven
With death’s own ploy.
Mortality
Is essential
And impossible to avoid
But your essence and your
Spirit can never be destroyed.
poorman'sdreams 