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DON’T GRIEVE THY GRAVE

It’s about strong powers and strong gods
Saying grace in the face of fear
It’s about long hours and long odds
Saving face when we shed a tear

We work in the steel mills
We stand on the corner of casual conversation and condemnation
Popping pills for the thrills that threaten our dreams
We are the hopeful who have hope when hurt is horrific 
And pain purports to be prolific
We are the ones who turn the gears of a galaxy for the unanimity of a universe
And curse those who contend that this is the way the world must be
When there are actions we could take to overcome adversity
And to deprive pity of the privilege to lay us all low
We are the crossing guards who guide the next generation across streets strewn with stones, bones and the moans of too many men who have come before them
The Minute Men, the soldiers of Gettysburg and those in Guantanimo Bay today
The armies that hold other armies at bay
So that the youthfulness of yesterday can stay the strength of those who might oppose us
And presuppose the dangers that declare destitution to loved ones and strangers alike
We are the ones who strike against strife and picket against a lack of pity
We live in intrepid towns and a citadel of cities that crisscross a land where loss is our enemy
And desperation results only in further inspiration
We are one town, one city, 
and the world is all one nation

I’ve heard tell that my God is dead
Well to rumor I am no slave
He is alive in every hungry child fed
And in His word that salvation begins in one’s grave     
        © 2012…..(c) 2012....copyright PHREEPOETREE ~free cee!~

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