The Man
Time is a rye, in this ill world of lies
we lead our lives, blinded by the tides
unable to subside our undeniable flaws,
our undeniable selfishness.
The power of one...they say, they say
The power of all, to become one
That'll be the day, i say, i say.
Confusion is instinctive, so fret on it not.
Confusion is fed to us by the higher man
The self-righteous "better" man
This man is no man, but a coward and a thief.
He feeds us fear
The fear that keeps us from standing up and screaming,
"No! No more!"
Indigenous innocence has been stolen
from the rightful hand of the common man.
They will tell you, this you must:
Work, stress, pay
Pay, stress, work.
And you listen, because of the fear.
The fear is fed to us by the higher man,
the greed driven "successful" man.
I have but one question....
when, and how, did the village idiot find the power?
We have made a mistake, my friends.
No mistake is un-fixable though...
Give it time
Give it effort
Give it hope
The power will be given back in good time
To the righteous, peaceful, honest man.
This will be the day.
Copyright © Dylan Montoya | Year Posted 2010
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment