By Arcassin Burnham
I was looking for a way I could make it though a life
Where people take shit too seriously,
I was looking for a life,
Had too many hardships in a world so invaluable
To the next life in a cryptic sleep,
Finding a way to dream,
There's no other way to say that I can't forgive all the
Things u put me through,
I hope it gets back to you too,
Just your average ordinary teen just looking for a job,
Of course minimum wage,
This is not my true virtue.
(To the tune of "Tie a Yellow Ribbon Round the Old Oak Tree!)
Today, I was offered a job, prithee,
Tutoring crims in literacy,
Silent reading for all the he's,
I'd be part of their conspiracy,
They'd all have a million dollars, you see,
Buried under the jail's old oak trees,
For their chicks and kids to live comfortably,
That's why they like gardening, you see,
It looks like the gophers have been,
The crims have left the scene!
They swiped the prison bus,
Forgot about "Literacy and Us!"
The governor put the blame on me!
So much for teaching prison literacy,
Now there's lots of holes under the jail's old oak trees,
Yes, the gophers have been,
The crims have left the scene,
All with a million dollars, you see,
Well, they learnt to spell 'conspiracy',
That was my job teaching literacy!
you don't want to live
you don't want to earn
you would rather not make
you wouldn't talk to again
death silence is your making
me you didn't see it coming
mutates in myriad ways
oh so quietly and
right in your suicidal-in-waiting face
The mosquito doesn't know you -
you weren't introduced.
It doesn't have anything against you.
It doesn't care.
You could be the queen,
or the pope,
or Mick Jagger,
or a freshly squeezed into this world baby..
In fact, it couldn't care less who you are.
The mosquito is just doing its job.
Just like you are "doing yours",
I stood there to calm them down,
I mean, I was trying to, because
it's my job.
But now I'm the only one around,
I mean, they left because
I didn't do my job.
I feel like a sailor and they're filling the sea,
I was there for them, and them for me,
I mean, at least I was, because,
it's my job.
There's an acutely thin line
between the total lunatic fringe
and that which is acceptable
I straddle the line
to the edge of a
not brave enough
where the "normal" people tread
saying I care not
what they think
with both longing
trying to mirror
I have preserved my secret
Stoic abandoned complexes,
Where such work was done,
Men's lives worked away into dust,
Until they were shambling shells,
The proud human they used to be,
Driven into retirement,
A lone chair to decay into,
Passing time and days,
Spent losing youth and life.
Man the only animal,
To work himself to a grave.
To have his son he spawned,
Do the same.