Desperate Age
this is a stained and desperate age
people hurrying from one high to another
leaking hope, re-filling with rage
fragmented families replaced with another
filling the streets with the pains of our life
lost in the crowds of insincere strangers
hearts hardening daily to suffering or strife
they live at the end, amid insanities dangers
there is nothing easy about the world where they live
love and life is cheap, the future has no value
each day is spent getting, with no thought to give
no purpose or goals, seldom anything new
feel sorrow for those on that serrated edge
and beware for your money, safety, and life
they hide among us, on that bleakest ledge
armed with nothing to lose, maybe a gun or a knife
seeking to excape the sight of their own despair
they slump in the shadows with no friends but drink
hiding even from their fellows who would share
a lonely drunk is a good one they think
or maybe they saunter, or swagger around
a pack or a gang, or a few feeling high
making it known that this is their ground
owning nothing but 6 feet by 2 when they die
most haven't the sense to work for their pay
no address they dare give, no home at all
they haven't the nerve to leave their decay
there's just to many bricks in the wall
i made it out with sweat, blood, and a hammer
i feel no despair, and i have found love to share
that is what was missing, before i met her
now i'm learning to love, and i truly care.
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