Who is the captain, of our ship,
The engineer of this train,
The person in the director’s chair,
The ones that make the most gains?
Our vessel,  a round mass of dirt,
Rocks, the center full of fire,
Water and sand, knowing,
Our lives are limited reservations,
We never totally own our land.
The people should be happy,
It seems like old history,
Many welcomed strangers, to their town,
Introduce themselves, invite them for vittles,
A shot of moonshine, truly kind, not a plan,
To rob, or hurt them, they enjoyed company around.
Every generation, learns, from what they hear and see,
Those at the wheel, need to change direction, a different way,
Robots are we trying to eliminate ourselves, the future will it be.
By The Original Tom Maxwell © 1/30/2022 AD