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bergen-franklinPoems
No more lords. No more rules. Dictated by cloud headed fools. Dogmatic commands issued from chairs in the sky. Telling those without wings: How we cannot live, And terms when we die Speaking endless promises yet speaking in riddles, circles, and lies. Life is a game Of slicked palmed councils on clouds Telling us, Work hard enough! Aspire high enough! And you can earn your wings* (*of feathers and wax) All your hard work Will be rewarded at last! So, work hard today and pay us our taxes. Perhaps tomorrow, you get your wings. All lies. We toil today. We toil tomorrow. We toil until our loved ones Gather in shared sorrow. Buried with unfulfilled dreams Of flying Tomorrow.
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May 13, 2015
May 13, 2015 at 5:04 AM UTC
Wings of Wax
No more lords. No more rules. Dictated by cloud headed fools. Dogmatic commands issued from chairs in the sky. Telling those without wings: How we cannot live, And terms when we die Speaking endless promises yet speaking in riddles, circles, and lies. Life is a game Of slicked palmed councils on clouds Telling us, Work hard enough! Aspire high enough! And you can earn your wings* (*of feathers and wax) All your hard work Will be rewarded at last! So, work hard today and pay us our taxes. Perhaps tomorrow, you get your wings. All lies. We toil today. We toil tomorrow. We toil until our loved ones Gather in shared sorrow. Buried with unfulfilled dreams Of flying Tomorrow.
Written by
bergen-franklin
May 13, 2015
May 13, 2015 at 5:04 AM UTC
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