Feeling the day as it passes
to memory from the now
Finds my wonder of life's spaces
sweeping the sweat from my brow
So as the day now spins along
reckless and out of control
No hand upon the tiller's wheel
with no aim in life or goal
Cast to a life of drudgery
full to the rim with despair
Life seems too close to misery
lost souls live everywhere
The roadside vendors give respite
to the holes in their worn shoes
As all go running on and on
playing life unto the blues
The sound from the touting vendors
carole "Save your soul" and more
Learn to tolerate the preaching
take your soup as if a chore
Not surprised to hear their answer
when they're asked which they prefer
Would you rather have all wisdom
or be an entrepreneur
Knowledge is said the enemy
of the working common man
Slave, toil and suffer to the sound
of a life without a plan
Now walk the streets of the lonely
with no bed to lay your brow
Push along the cart you call home
of the fate you disavow
For that is all that's left of you
to hang your dignity on
You've lost the hopes of any dreams
your family is all gone
Pride now carried upon the wind
everything has a price and fee
Won't someone smile, hold out a hand
to share salvation with me
Tate
© 2014 Tate Morgan
Written
February 15, 2014
May 23, 2014
May 23, 2014 at 12:58 AM UTC
Feeling the day as it passes
to memory from the now
Finds my wonder of life's spaces
sweeping the sweat from my brow
So as the day now spins along
reckless and out of control
No hand upon the tiller's wheel
with no aim in life or goal
Cast to a life of drudgery
full to the rim with despair
Life seems too close to misery
lost souls live everywhere
The roadside vendors give respite
to the holes in their worn shoes
As all go running on and on
playing life unto the blues
The sound from the touting vendors
carole "Save your soul" and more
Learn to tolerate the preaching
take your soup as if a chore
Not surprised to hear their answer
when they're asked which they prefer
Would you rather have all wisdom
or be an entrepreneur
Knowledge is said the enemy
of the working common man
Slave, toil and suffer to the sound
of a life without a plan
Now walk the streets of the lonely
with no bed to lay your brow
Push along the cart you call home
of the fate you disavow
For that is all that's left of you
to hang your dignity on
You've lost the hopes of any dreams
your family is all gone
Pride now carried upon the wind
everything has a price and fee
Won't someone smile, hold out a hand
to share salvation with me
Tate
© 2014 Tate Morgan
Written
February 15, 2014
Who can say with any certainty that one day this will not be their own fate? "There but for the grace of God go I". These people had hopes dreams children families. Who cares why they have fallen down? It is the duty of humanity to lift them to their feet. In this era of globalization we have taken a step backwards in civility. Gone are the days of pensions and compassion. Crushed under the jackboots of the giant corporations that don't believe in humanity at all. Corporate profit is all that matters to the world now. All are made to be thrown out none are saved or even repaired. Our politicians are as corrupt as ever selling our birthrights to the highest bidder and leaving the old and infirm along the side of the road. Greatest place in the world? The day will come when we are given the choice to end our days through euthanasia. Rather than to live as an outcast to the society that no longer values us. Welcome to the 21st century. Everything we hear is an opinion not a fact. Everything we see is a perspective not a truth. Many have been convicted on an opinion of a perspective.
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