Jackals  and *******
Clowns and criminals;
Lies and libelous lambastes
With integrity minimal.
Grande Guignol politics
From pusillanimous politicians
Poisoning the populace
With only selfish ambitions.

Sleight of hand shysters
And self-appointed diplomats
Throw out all their morals
And set out the welcome mat
For those the most likely
To pay the highest bribe
And have no care if they sell
The land from under the tribe.

So what if water is poisoned?
As long as they make money.
After all, the rich aren’t harmed.
Now isn’t that incredibly funny?
Who cares about the future?
What matters is right now
And the profit they can make.
It is what the law will allow.

And those that wrote those laws
So cleverly and quietly confused
The very people stupid enough
To so gullibly to be thus used.
But jackals and *******
Really aren’t animals at all.
Nor are they household pets
Who come when they are called.

In a caged room surrounded by mourn
faced by the art I drew and painted
skewed in a sullen moody brew*
drowning in the remedy of beauty

On the cliff, clipped of untraced wings
rated by the lifelong abandonment
sent free by the unlived blurred visions
fondling the melodies of the unfounded

Inside a class of the pessimist, frowned at
Summerly scented lavender cases the rain
burnt under the burdening traffic
of smoke, lurk, afflictions, delusions

Outside the forest chasing waterfalls
submerged in the weakening infernos
isolated inside the gust of wintery winds
*sipping tea and seducing mere boredom

Should the sky fall,
That is to say that you feel a crisis,
Just saying,
Grab a star and put it in your
Pocket, hold on to your continent
As it drifts,
Drain the ocean to the deserts
And gather unprecedented cactus flowers.

Should sky fall
Learn the world as it all falls by,
I mean it's just a thought,
Take the time to shed copper tears
And rain the wounds over
The heights that fall,
How much would be left of a splintered
Moon, planets whizzing by,
And yet here you are still
In your pity!

Gather the energy
Among the falling birds,
The comets with animals scurrying
About claiming new territory,
See! They make the best of their
Sorrow!

Lower your sorrows,
I tell you now,
The song of your sad poetry,
The rumors of the Earth's demise,
Calm your skies,
If it is night, look up out the window,
Count the hopeful stars,
And - I'm just saying-
If they are falling,
Catch them!
Then all your wishes and hopes
Are finally coming true!