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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required I came upon a tribe one day in a land not far away where everyone gets what they need from juices of an orange seed Some who drank the juice had died and so the tribe felt satisfied that they had weeded out the weak with the help of orange seed Some fell asleep the whole day long for orange juice was very strong and never felt an ounce of pain with not a care to cross the brain But others would feel more awake with every little drop they’d take They’d run and dance and twitch and shake and never need to take a break Still others would get sick and green like a flu they’d never seen The only really certain cure was “Never touch the juice no more” For some, the drug would change their mood to dumb and brutal, cruel and rude But even those would find their use in the tribe of orange juice Of course, a few got very wise had visions right before their eyes Surely, God chose them to lead with blessings from the orange seed So anyone made dull and tired were rounded up and all required to work all day or face the noose and never touch the orange juice But those the seed would energize were thereby made to supervise the work so tedious and tough while sipping on the orange stuff And those for whom the seed caused harm, were duly trained to run the farm All day to sneeze and cough non-stop yet trusted with the precious crop And anyone turned cruel, it’s true got plenty of the orange brew you could guess what jobs they do and who they really answer to Not leaders who hallucinate that everything is going great nor all the rest who get their dose (except the ones that need it most) Not any man or myth or god nor any beast of sea or sod but just a noxious little weed with a toxic little orange seed There may be some as I suspect for whom the seed has no effect I doubt that they’re allowed to stay they wouldn’t want to anyway
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