Dead Men Do Tell Tales
Dead Man Tells Tales
I saw, the rot of selfish desires,
burning endlessly in clever fires
Piles of cash a mountain high
stolen by those that steal and lie
six days every week ,
while they go to church pretending
to be so mild and meek
The preacher crying all to give so much more
while he lives in a mansion with a golden door
drunks living with no other life
have sacrificed family and wife
naked women on the the street,
selling thier pride and body like meat
hustlers getting rich selling poisonous dope
as they hang themselves with an evil rope
I looked for solace and found there was none
just endless cowards crying on the run
A world teaching wrong is so damn right
blind monkeys never seeing the light
dancing in fruitless trees,
tree-rats eating with relish their rotting cheese
Looking for Spring to bring life anew
I too am blind and without a damn clue
a fool holding onto a false hope
on a tight leash and even shorter rope
Where is the miracle we each think can come
we see it shining there for some
A treasure glaring in the glimmering Sun
gifted not stolen by guile and a gun
So I finally turned to family for relief
ease my Soul, winter in my long lost belief
that Life must give us all a saving line
other than more food when we sit to dine
Ahh yes, I swing in one of those fruitless trees,
a monkey often doing just as I please
yet dare to think to have so much more
salvation on a far away dazzling shore
My arrogance is in my daring to wish to be better
a fool writing fantasy in an inquiry letter
Is death the only, the one saving grace
a vacation from this sadness infecting the human race
I wonder, can man ever journey forth without greed
without pride of the darkness in his seed
with the guiding light pointing to that place
where joy and love beams in every shining face
All the vanity I once held firmly, so damn dear
was no more than vanishing suds in my lousy beer
Standing now to look over my own selfish deeds
I see a child still lost in the tall, tall weeds
sometimes crying for help to rush on to rescue
is sweet salvation only for the chosen few
Spring came when I had completely given up on me
a beaten man , crying out in a desperate plea
Once I had lost my arrogant, foolish pride
I had no shelter in which to stupidly hide
As darkness raced to force me into its trap
that restraining leash did finally snap
I took one step into the waiting light
away from darkness of that life enslaving night
And only then, only then did I see-
The huge rot of all my selfish desires,
burning endlessly in my clever fires
Piles of my cash a mountain high
stolen by we that relentlessly steal and lie
six shameful days every week ,
while we go to church pretending
to be so damn clever, mild and meek
Robert J. Lindley, 04-20-1999
Note- This poem was written long ago. Things have only gotten worse since then.
They can lie, steal and deceive mortal men but not the One that will one furure day judge them !
Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2015
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