If you look back on your life what do you see,
Does it meet up to what you wanted it to be,
If you look back now what would you change,
What would you redo, not do or re-arrange.

If your childhood you was stood before you here,
Would he recognize his dreams or be nowhere near,
If you could make things different what would you do,
Would you discover new purpose or points of view.

If you altered yourself who would you be,
What about places you go and things that you see,
If you changed your path to better your need,
Would you sacrifice self for money and greed.

If the world changed forever for better and good,
Would you remember how you got to where you now stood,
If everything reverted back  to childhood dreams,
You could make everything just the way it should seem.

green is my favourite colour
but I more often speak of gold
for it runs through my veins
a feeling that cannot be controlled

light overcomes any darkness
when I chance the trade of new
though sadness surely follows
for I lack revenue

children create vivid dreams
in which a certain wealth is foretold
we imagine greatness will arrive
if we trade effort for gold

we plan to surpass our fathers
while obstacles get in the way
because the possibilities are endless
until our screens fade to grey

you see green was my favourite colour
but I more often spoke of gold
for it ran in my veins
and was left uncontrolled

This country was built on greed.
All the white men had desires;
Gold, God and Glory their creed.
Sin loves to travel in packs
wrath came next to spill blood.
The Great Spirit received many guests.

Having desires is not a sin.
Sin entered when men were sold
to backbreaking work for another’s gain.
***** blood fueled the Southern Kingdom
greed begot sloth which begot fear
slavery became too valuable to lose.

So in the great American tradition
compromise became the easy way out.
Why fight for 3/5 a person;
instead bounce between slave and free
making all envy the southern wealth
a perfect illusion hiding white poor.

Fast forward to the Postbellum south.
Half the wealth has become man
equality will mean Southern prosperity’s death.
The south needs labor to rebuild
sharecropping and convict leasing slavery’s *******
will help keep the ***** down.

When men become numbers society fails.
Why not work them to death?
Just grab another to lay rails.
Once being black is a crime
it’s simple to justify white pride.
Fear will keep those ******* inline.

So do not blame Big Business
for the destruction they routinely cause.
Save your petitions to our congress
they can’t even touch the monster.
We devour all that we see
but that’s our countries original Sin.

A timber night in a dark way can't stay for long
plowed down, scorched down  - must be torn down
kings of city pipes, dusty concrete heirlooms, read a bible to sleep

Wake in the morning, sun rays shine through dust ridden books
Morals, condoned in heart shaped smoke clouds

Greed's arms will swell rejecting midnights' hiss' "Where will they live?"
'Sirrrrrrrr' 'Homeeee'...... Floating like gas particles, words lost.
A stand alone will die to unknown prosperity
ropes straggle helpless branches
Clenching their last breathes, the weeping skies sit silently

Hateful hateful hunger, feeding the bodies thirst

Our midnight Cowboy song goes: Manufactured green, leaving scorched earth barren, unwritten torch, unseen

For we saw what we wanted to.

So long have I been filled with doubt,
Too afraid to let pour out.
But tonight, in the midst of the storm in my spirit,

I curse your name and all that you are.

Hollow and fake.
You're no "give" and all "take".
When you speak of your life,
I can feel my hair turning gray.
I despise what you are.
I loathe what you say.
But what disgusts me the most is what you do everyday.

Liar. Sham.
You were all along.
You'd cut your own arm off before admitting you're wrong.
Prideful. Ungrateful.
You reek of greed.
Unable to distinguish what you want from what you need.

Selfish. Vain.
Quick to point a finger.
But when you are selfish,
You're the last one to linger.

Continue your fascade. Maintain the charade.

Karma's almost here and you're in the way.

I want to ask society why it
broke so many of its people
Why are so many productive
people feel driven to suicide
Who took their self worth and
nailed it to the mast of net worth
Why are the wealthy inflated
with arrogance and the poor
burdened by shame
Who took self esteem and
married it to our income
How did a tool of measurement
directly become value

Why is it fashionable to be rich
and look down on the poor
Why are the words of a rich man
listened to, so much more
Why do people not recognize their
small creations at the ground level
Why do we rob the poor of respect
too give too the over elevated rich
Why are the poor demotivated by shame
while pride drives on in a ruthless
appetite possessed by the rich

Who disconnected self worth from
the flower of produce and replaced
it with money
Who thought it a good idea to abandon
people on their tiny rafts and throw them
into rough waters of fear and greed
Who said fear and greed make
a good flower bed
Why have people not been guided into
deeper waters where currents flow and
a richness in the heart can be explored

Some say money is the root of all evil
I say money is the root of all people
It is just paper yet it holds so much power
You can get it in a day & it'll be gone in an hour
It can be a total destruction or simply a simple satisfaction
Growing up we are taught that everything is money & it doesnt grow on trees
We even learnt to count money when we learnt our A-B-C's
Money sparks the flame in our eyes and brings the spirit of greed
Everytime we get money it's like the more things we seem to need
Money taunts us in our sleep and fanatasizes
"Come get me! Spend me! Steal me!"
They all cry from a heap
It states "In God we trust."
More like "For the paper we lust"
Are we spending with values or are we spending for us?
Money is money and nothing else
So treat it as such and save yourself

for the greedy, wealth is another high score.
the number doesn't matter,
they just want more.

How do I know if it's still love, or a darker sort of need?
As each wish that we send above, we do so out of greed.

I could dream of you forever, and I probably will indeed.
Love chained our hearts together, and I'm not asking to be freed.

My mistakes haunt me everyday, whilst smiling eyes mislead.
In disbelieving disarray, surviving love's stampede.

I write these words I cannot say, not knowing where they'll lead.
But I'll still write them anyway, these words you'll never read.