The Future

For you ‘I don’t give a damn’ you’re only out to destroy simplicity the innocence of a new born lamb, little children striving for felicity! For comfort! ‘A tube of glue’ the populous in dialogue rejected layman, preacher left without a clue the nation’s health the first to be neglected. No peace! ‘Within the ghetto’ despondency etched in each despairing face, rivals chant with sottished stilettos no one to wander from this imbroglio place. Mothers! ‘Bewail the smack train’ sons and daughters stoned beyond recognition, master nurturing the seeds of pain just to keep the subdued fixed in detrition. Outside the wall. ‘Grandeur feeds’ gullibility the food that nourishes, there a different adrenalin bleeds in stark fear of a system that flourishes! © Harry J Horsman 1992