The
Sunlight,
One
Can
Forget
Time's
Chill
And
Old
Regrets
Left
From
The
Wintry
Night,
And
All
The
Wrongs
That
Can't
Come
Right.
Hope
Stretches
Thin,
Yet
Each
Day
We
Live
Has
Solace
To
Give,
And
Rested,
We
Begin
Again.
In
The Sunlight, One Can Forget Time's Chill And Old Regrets Left From The Wintry Night, And All The Wrongs That Can't Come Right. Hope Stretches Thin, Yet Each Day We Live Has Solace To Give, And Rested, We Begin Again.
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Dawn, My Neighbor Waters His Scrubby Lawn, And I Vow, The Entire Town. He Turns On The Hose, And The Idiot Never Knows The Reservoir The Goes Down. All This For A Heavenly Bamboo Bush, And A Palm Tree Somebody Gave A Push, So It Leans Almost To The Ground. What Price Beauty And All That Crap, But For A Snap, I'd Cry For A Water Cop And Make Him Stop, Before The World Runs Dry. America
Began As An Idea In The Mind Of Men, That We Had The Gumption To Be What They Called Free. We Owed Our Fathers Nothing, And Would Be Totally Of Ourselves, No Outworn Rules, No Price To Pay For Throwing Loyalty Away. But We Have Fallen From That Lofty Goal, And In Our Vanity, Lost Our Soul And Sacrificed Our Sanity To Violence And Inanity. We Have No Family, No Brother, No Sheltering Mother, And Unfleshed, We Struggle To Stand Alone, Barren To The Bone. The
Valiant Old Dog, Shadow, Is On Her Last Paw, And We Stand In Awe As She Grows More Frail, And Will Finally Fail. At Fifteen, She Paces And Paces, And We Fear The Poor Creature Is No Longer Quite Here. If We Coax Her To Rest, She Cannot Stay, Struggles Up, And Staggers Away. Knowing It Has Grown Too Late, We Wait. In
A Greedy, Heedless Tangle, Has Humanity Slowly Strangled The Golden Goose Of Nature, The Life Giver, To Devour The Liver? The Wind Rolls In On Cartwheels Of Sand, Each Grain Carefully Planned To Coat Our Desert With A Scattering Hand, Drying Us Out And Prolonging The Drought. We’re Waiting For A Flood Of Rain To Float Us Out Again, And We Study The Sky, Ten Thousand Miles High, But It’s Dry, Dry, Dry. I Wish
The Idle Gods Would Make It Snappy, And Bring Back The Time When We Were Innocently Happy. Every Day Now Is A Death Threat, Disease Plotting To Steal Our Breath, And Crazed Gunmen Haunt The Street, Ready To Make Our Day Complete. How Can We Fashion A Drastic Change, And Rearrange Our Stubborn, Collective Head, Before We’re All Dead? |
AuthorJeanette Collins Archives
March 2024
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