You.
You are what once stayed my hand from rage.
You once blocked my lips from every bottle,
with your lips.
You are what once prevented tar from coating my lungs,
and you kept hate from filling my heart.
You once prevented my untimely demise.
You.
You are now every punch I throw and take in return,
You are every ounce of liquor that filters through my kidneys.
You are now every carcinogen I too often inhale,
You still keep my heart from hate,
Because you filled it to bursting with sorrow.
You are what I now follow to my grave.
You.

It used to be easy
Making a friend
In Pre-K you just played
And you supposed it'd never end
It used to be easy
Passing a test
You just had to study
And do your best
It used to be easy
And all was stress-free
But now it's too hard
It is too hard for me
My head in a book
My pen on a page
Late nights and waking up early the next day
It used to be easy
It required no thought
It used to be easy
But now, it is not.

Once it was just an innocent pick and shovel,
not much effort not much trouble,
Populations grew and demands exploded,
machines invented, more fuel was needed.
Trees were cut, factories built, coal discovered,
Smoke stacks billowed, still it was not enough!
And populations doubled.
  
Holes were drilled, to reach down deep,
"Black Gold" they said would be so cheap,
light the homes and run the ships,
drive the trains and keep the peace.  
Still it was not enough!
And the populations doubled!

**** the Earth, she can take it,
there is always more to exploit,
more to shamelessly profit from it.

Deplete the surface, Oh hell,
just go down deeper,
Oil all gone, well how 'bout shale?

A little recipe for disaster:
Drill multitudes of holes miles deep,
inject under extreme pressure,
thousands of gallons of water
imported from some great distance.
"Truck it in, ***** the expense!",
Add tons of harsh chemicals into this
volatile, polluting mix.
Blast deep strata with this brew,
until solid rock does crack,
Shale into gas and liquid gold,
Then bring it to the surface.

Now never mind the consequence,
That near by ground water as it flows
from out of household taps,
can be set afire by just the touch
of the lighted flame,
from a single just struck match.

And those now huge cracks deep
within the mantel of the Earth,
what of them I say,
Well not far below those cracks
is our molten lava core,
Just looking for escape.

Respected Geologists warn us of the risks,
Triggering quakes and huge volcano rips,
Yet the Fat Cats and their government,
still assures us, "never mind the consequence".

Ridiculous yes, perhaps suicidal,
As if the Captain of a submarine allowed his crew
to pound large nails into the body of his boat,
To hang up pictures of the Pope.

Again ridiculous you say,
Who would do such a insane thing?
The same **** guys that once owned the crews,
that swung that old pick and shovel,

A father to son inheritance,
by the same thieves, that manipulate our economy,
Riding the Bull up Wall Street and back down again,
All at their selfish greedy whims,
Never considering their corruption as any particular sin.

Those one percent spoilers who generation to generation,
continue to profit from their latest Big Business Gyration.
Even inventing a new name for this particular indiscretion,
Never even wincing, they straight faced lie with conviction,
and say hence,
"Hey folks, it's called Fracking, and you shouldn't mind
the consequence", 

So, it's profits over common sense,
The Fat Cats win again?  
My response to that,
Perhaps someone should FRACK them!

Now as to this just read little parable,
Less you dismiss it as some environmental fable.
The moral here is,
You glutinous greedy Big Oil Boys,
need to push back from the table!

I sit quietly and watch as they all pass by
Strange strangers of every shape and size
Wondering what and who and how they are
Wondering how they've all come this far
There's the short man with shoes too small
The old woman, under her arm an old doll
The young man who always wears pink
The woman whose fingers are covered in ink
The man whose face is sprinkled with pimples
The little girl, on her left cheek one dimple
The gray haired woman singing under her breath
The man with the face anxiously waiting for death
The young woman hiding behind her dark hair
The albino man sitting while enjoying a pear
The woman standing rigid, who silently cries
The tall man standing near, eating her with his eyes
The lady wearing too much makeup, always bored
The father with his son whom he simply ignores
The crumpled man begging for food with his words
The blind woman who instead feeds the birds
The little boy with the white balloon in hand
The tallest trumpet player from a marching band
The bald man with the tattoo depicting a shipwreck
The woman in the suit with the scar on her neck
The two lovers sharing their first and last kiss
The man with the rings decorating his fists
The smiling woman whose cuts are apparent
The quiet young man whose arms are all bent
The old man with the bag full of piano keys
The blind old man with the parrot who sees
The young man with his black hat pulled down
The gentleman unabashedly dressed like a clown
The man with the blood shot eyes, scruffy head
The girl with the one streak of blonde hair dyed red
The small woman with the paper bag holding beer
And the lost looking man wondering why he is here
All of these men and woman and more I observe
Always coming and going, their stories unheard
For they are simply strangers for me to behold
Disconnected from me, yet still part of a whole
For among them I have my own story and role
But if only I could heard their own stories told
For then maybe I could understand my place
In a world full of strangers with each their own strange face