When it becomes an Issue
Grease that bloodletting company machine
cash in your slave wages
someone’s goanna get screwed
doing all the dirty work
unleashing trained baboons.
taxes get paid
do nothings of society
thrive and breed
us out of existence
replacing us with their clones
TAKE from those who HAVE
and give back NOTHING in return.
that way the old boss
can change his mask
before someone sees
what the bastard looks like.
’cause everyone who’s half way honest
is too goddamned busy
caught up in their own wheels spinning.
no one knows why
That poor old derelict gave up
who sleeps on a sidewalk
in a cardboard box
in south central.
But, that man’s set free
cause’ that’s all he owns.
to find himself
to finally understand who he really is.
All those young college grads
who got the straight A’s
were clever enough to learn how to use that piece of paper to
open those doors
and climb that corporate ladder
just like a trained ape.
began growing out of their hairy pores
connecting the dots
to all their legs, arms,
ears, eyes, nose, cheeks, and
every friggin’ joint and orifice on the outside of their bodies
measured, gauged, controlled
the strings also traveled like a cancerous virus throughout the inside of their bodies
pushing up through their necks into their moldable brains
taking hold of and perverting all their thoughts and feelings.
the strings thrust their bodies up in the air
and they got into their cars
mindlessly driving to work
the strings pulled up their lips and made them smile
when all they wanted to do was for once in their lives feel sad for what they’d become
the strings made them sit up straight in bumper to bumper traffic
grinding their teeth
and think about killing that F____R riding their asses right behind them
who honked his horn
cut them off
and flipped them the bird.
hope was finally lost
souls were changed
by all those soulless strings which pulled on every atom of their person.
These victims were so goddamned depressed they couldn’t take it anymore
those strings made some hang themselves in their own garages
while their wives and children watched in horror.
we begin life sincere
yet, there are those who find success
stepping on people
crushing their gentle spirits
for the sake of narcissism
They drive by the innocent’s tombstones
thumbing their noses at those they’ve murdered
in that fancy car
living in that fancy house
spending all that money
on those phony facelifted boob job wives
and bratty bastard offspring.
These are those who would never say they’d lost their way
They would shout confidently
‘follow me, I know where I’m going!’
and, the many would follow
in the same footsteps
because the masses believe in those they
believe in themselves.