A little diatribe of the world right now.
that all started with a little gold cough.
Our self-esteem is breaking down,
this year's new smile is a frown.
A mirrored mask to hide who we are,
to lie about money, a house, and even our car!
A man is screaming "Fashion Statement suicide!"
"Why don't you come and join our side."
War means Peace, Peace means War,
we want money, more, more, more!
Drugs are our new dessert,
find any way to get it, who cares who you hurt.
Keg Parties have become our homework,
to be nice to you we have to be a jerk.
Stain the carpet with some man's blood,
you are praised while he eats mud!
The smoking gun in a child's hand,
probably was influenced by some off-beat band.
Solve your problems with a pill,
drinking a pack of beer and still can't get your fill!
We are playing with fire,
leaving it be as it gets higher and higher.
To be perfect isn't good enough,
by the looks of it the future is going to be rough.
Andrew Phillip Hartley
Copyright ©2007 Andrew Phillip Hartley
Poetry by andre10
Read 610 times
Written on 2007-10-26 at 23:12
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)
Print text
Where have we gone
An epidemic that turns on and off,that all started with a little gold cough.
Our self-esteem is breaking down,
this year's new smile is a frown.
A mirrored mask to hide who we are,
to lie about money, a house, and even our car!
A man is screaming "Fashion Statement suicide!"
"Why don't you come and join our side."
War means Peace, Peace means War,
we want money, more, more, more!
Drugs are our new dessert,
find any way to get it, who cares who you hurt.
Keg Parties have become our homework,
to be nice to you we have to be a jerk.
Stain the carpet with some man's blood,
you are praised while he eats mud!
The smoking gun in a child's hand,
probably was influenced by some off-beat band.
Solve your problems with a pill,
drinking a pack of beer and still can't get your fill!
We are playing with fire,
leaving it be as it gets higher and higher.
To be perfect isn't good enough,
by the looks of it the future is going to be rough.
Andrew Phillip Hartley
Copyright ©2007 Andrew Phillip Hartley
Poetry by andre10
Read 610 times
Written on 2007-10-26 at 23:12
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)
Print text