The Passion
It's like some rotten little joke
That your kindergarten teacher spoke
All of God's things get broke and it's we must fix 'em
The bones in your body, snapped in half
The tree on your house while your wife's in the bath
You can't help but muffle a laugh at the lucky victims
We're all in this game together
We're all tallying points as one
In the passion of the predicament --
In the Name of the Father and Son --
It don't matter in the eyes of the sun
She stays at work later than the rest
And fondles the Crucifix on her chest
For a boss who's always vexed but there ain't no pardon
I wonder what she looks like under the skirt
Too much desk, not enough dessert
I'll bet her Sundays especially hurt out in her thorny garden
He left his only war, an amputee
July sparkler eyes, now dark as gangrene
Spent the winter of '16 in a coma of contentment
But a piece of him back in a Belgian field
Keeps ringing out like tensile steel
If he could only once more feel what Nature intended
Now we stagger home to our borrowed sheds
With electrodes they suctioned to our heads
I'm lining up for my meds and damn the addiction
But at least they left us one TV
We can fight over ways we think we're free
And when the doctor comes round, we can always renew our prescription
We're all in this game together
We're all tallying points as one
In the passion of the predicament --
In the Name of the Father and Son --
It don't matter in the eyes of the sun
Copyright © Keith Dovoric | Year Posted 2020
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