It seemed I had always played the Game
I slipped into the 60’s without one clue
Choices were made and theories to learn
My long hair flowed and I was a child
Those around me were children too
But they also acted grown up and confident
We spouted songs of protest and concern
Never heeding our demise and purpose
I once traveled to Chicago to see a girl
Not to dwell in protest or disorder
I was the lucky one all decked out
In my bluejeans and flower shirts
I wrote poetry for my own peace of mind
The ones who I let read it were envious
They wanted me to publish
I wanted to be left alone
I had already fought that greed
Once I gave the same poem to two girls
Each showed it to their friends
When they discovered they had the same one
They both dumped me and became good friends
Girls !!!!!!!!
As if they could saddle the world


Back to the Game….
Everyone plays the Game
The ones who say they don’t
Are playing the Game against the Game
(pause for clarity and reality)


In the 60’s we wanted to be free
We rebelled against wealth and position
But the leaders of our movement
Never wanted for food or clothes
In most countries that was extreme wealth
It troubled me then and now
For now you see them in the system
And I am left with doubt
Of how we all stood up
To only be left out.