• Life

    A fleeting glimpse into this "game" reveals how truly unfair life is.
    Little children goaded along told to mind their own business.

    The boy sits with his head down, alone
    they ignored his please as he would beg and moan

    Cold, dying, beggar lies on the city street
    trampled upon by greed-carried feet,

    The druggie shakes uncontrollably, violently ill
    Pin-p***k in deathly silence, rush of no will

    Rich man sits upon a pile of dirty gold,
    No true love for him to warmly hold,

    We trick ourselves with weak delusions,
    reveling in collections of dour illusions,

    This orphans bones are not so strong,
    for family, his heart will always long,

    A widow weeps for what feels like years,
    over long lost relations, do fall her tears,

    The hopeless romantic dies inside, it seems
    living an existence of unfulfilled dreams,

    Our days are not all actually unfair,
    'Tis but a word we made up, without forethought or care