My Love Four of July
O my Four of July, what dream of mine
Shall I give you wolf?
A job? A foreclosure paradise?
A world of light
Towards the spectrum of death?
But such awareness call it nightmare –
Not even the illusion of being buried by dust
Under the heat of a claiming day
Like silly worm tries to hold life telling the moon it is going
To be a tomorrow better
And sing the waste of a song
That old song as you can see it.
Copyright © George Zamalea | Year Posted 2013