A Dying Sun
Sing without a wisp of breath
Night has fallen, the day is done
And looking over the waterfront
The sunset cries, hating to die
All life is focused toward death
And unto death, do us part
Young or old it’s a start
Dying with or without dignity, morality, and purity
Doesn’t matter what is said or done
What matters is what we become
Our bodies decompose in the dirt of wet worms
A life of white lies, till we take ourselves alive
The sun has no choice
Nor a voice
It serves only to chase the blackness
From the white driven snow.
Puppet Show
A plastic puppet show
Where heroes become those who play child’s games
Heroes become those with the green
Heroes becomes those who are always seen
Heroes become those who are unkind and mean
Love not out of passion
But out of security and survival
Wealth enters the emotion of fear and respect
As the poor feel the biting tension of regret
A puppets show on a plastic stage
A parade of strings bound in a cage
A puppeteer biting the pop stars glue
Puppets biting the mind that guides you
Ego blinds good judgment
Wreckage is caused by road rage
My head keeps ringing
Think the puppets got a page.