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Paul R Mott Mar 2012
I can’t see for the sun
It’s the darkness lights me up
But that ain’t the way to live
Mere wandering can’t fill my cup

I get up late from when the world starts
I can’t catch a break 'cept for my broken heart
Broken not from women, broken not from friends
Broken only from the things in life that won’t end

There’s always the confusion
There’s always the pain
But in spite of these things
The sun pokes through the rain

With the sun above us and the rain below
It should be easy to deal melancholy a blow
But only for the permanent people
With their permanent problems

They can make peace with woe
Since it is all they know
But for those with fleeting spirits
And seasick minds, a solution can be much harder to find

So we spend our lives searching
With the journey as our goal
But with no destination to find
We keep walking low

Out of sight from the sun
Treading carefully on the rain
No impetus for shaky souls to run
A simple “I don’t know” seems to be our refrain

Not from sloth do we shun a rationale
But from confusion, wonder, and the urge to corral
All our misgivings and doubts into something that’s right
Something to sooth a troubled mind when it keeps up the night
Paul R Mott Mar 2012
A child without water,
a rich man drinks his coffee.

A father unable to provide,
a rich kid gets a new car.

A mother lies awake, body ravaged by AIDS,
while the Hollywood hills expose their costly ills.

The dream of equality is nowhere to be found
while the lives of the many are repressed and pushed down.

Executives and suits lived gluttonous youths
while a father works to death to fill his children’s mouths.

There is a solution to this problem of society,
one which the telethon celebs won’t give up quietly.

It doesn’t involve guilt-trips on TV.
It doesn’t need attention constantly.

Socialites shouldn’t seek their own satisfaction
if the only result is our continued inaction.

What is really necessary, what really needs doing,
is to get out there and get ourselves moving.

It’s the work of us commoners
that will fill up the bellies.

It’s the donation of the middle class
that will educate young ladies.

The revolution of giving needs to be started
or else who will care when our own lives grow stunted?

The world all together relies on us all
to give out our hand and make our brothers stand tall.

It’s these simple acts which will strengthen the pillars
of mutual respect for our society’s sisters.

So don’t wait any longer for a celeb to rise up.
It’s these people below them who’ll fill up the cup.

No debutante or heir can fill every belly
by thinking of their pride and unearned glory.

Never before has it felt so right
to be the common man, helping a peer in his plight.

— The End —