I rant and rave they say it’s a poem
I scream and moan… they love my song
At the start it’s not always art
Keep going to the end
Soon enough it will start
What is it keeps me going?
And all the others as well?
Why do we keep twitching long
After all life has been rung from dead echo?
The last resonance
A memory……
The bell
Long forgotten
The shoe shine boy is 50 years old
I don’t have to tell him the game is rigged
Wealth and fame more than he can claim still exist
Within his brain
Within his heart.
The world long ago shut the door
To his dreams.
Some are meant to gather words
Others are slaves to the sound
And them that keep the beat
With their happy feet
What would we do with them not around?
Give thanks that you are content
Give more yet for the race
Of your restless soul
The moil and toil
The dissatisfaction…
The clawing distraction of change
For better or worse
All must take a side
Or straddle the worlds of despair
Or of hope….
At times, at the same time
I may never build a car
Or design that rocket-warp that bursts
The veil of time
Rips space to shred
Crumples all the lies and deceptions
That strangle/swallow us in their webs/traps
But I am content now
In my disaffection
