“Do unto others as you
Would have them do unto you.”
The Golden Rule applies to everyone,
Every brother, sister, daughter, and son.
If treating people with respect
Is what everyone should live by,
Why don’t we say hello or hi?
What about your son, Lonnie?
Not feeding him is funny?
You watch him starve
And then you carve
Into his brain the image
Of Pain, Suffering, Damage.
You stand there, watching him suffer
Do you think you’re a good mother?
He cries from hunger and he cries from pain
And you tell him to shut up; he’s insane.
Poor, little Lonnie, your son, hasn’t taken a shower or a bath
For forty days and nights, but he’s staying quiet to avoid your wrath.
His clothes are torn and nonexistent
He’s not making a sound; he’s distant
From you and what you call being a mother
Because all that he needs is a big brother.
He looks in the mirror and all that he sees
Is a reflection of what ifs and maybes.
What if I was with a new family?
Maybe I can feel alive and feel free
To attend school and to get rid of these clothes
Then maybe I can turn these pages and close
This awful chapter in my young life
And avoid being stabbed with the knife
Of lack of respect and compassion
And this awful food called field ration
That you, my mom, told me was healthy
While you go out and get wealthy
And you spend that money on clothes and food
And whatever else that lifts up your mood.
What about me? I’m your own flesh and blood.
I feel like I’m being dragged through the mud
Of Pain and Suffering and no Respect.
Well you know mom, I’m done with the neglect.
I live by the Golden Rule and you will witness
My wrath unto you will be full of sweetness
Because mom, you know what they say around this town?
It is all Karma: What goes around, comes around.
I live by the Golden Rule, mom, what about you?
‘Cause in the end of the day, I’m no longer blue.