Same Old Song

It's the same old song of love and the world gone wrong that endless need and want that walks in the shadows of democracies haunt. Is it a dream, some wild restless interlude of sleepless nights and dreams that exude the love of self more than your neighbor and in God's eye, who gains the favor? Give me your tired and your poor just don't let them knock on my door and who is the refugee you see in the generations before our own ancestry? Were it not for the passage of time where would be this familiar family line of streaming lives in search of the dream held back by rhetorical bureaucratic screams? Voices speak and shout yet remain unheard trying to hold freedoms spurned by false words content to keep those in charge in political char when the people's choices remain barred. This major-minority is too easily swayed by thrills outspoken and angry at the use of guns and pills but we are challenged at every turn along to sing the same old song. The future lays waiting round the bend and what wisdom does America send? Generations still to come will look back at the foolishness we have done.