The Seventh Son
This is your new world
A new age of cooperation for change
Of the hovel's life.
A growth managed not by seven nations
But twenty chosen friends
Marginalizing thos who have no arms
To declare a nightmare
On the dreams
Of children sweating
In straw beds at center of the world.
A world where the invisible seventh son sleeps.
So our president
Of the free world speaks from a podium
Where G-7 is now G-20
And cannot understand why
Mexico and Afghanistan
Is at war with this new century
Pitting country
Against individual currency
In the market of survival.
Too narrow this table
Of the fortunate few in democracy.
O give me a voice
I am the seven son whose time
For slow unveils is past
Whose power shakes the kingdoms like a patch of grass
While they deny the things I know
The gift I wasd born with in me to show
My other consciousness
Beyond material glow.
And your might be new
But I was here before
And long ago.
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