Your boss told you what to believe.
He is tanking badly in the polls.
Still, your boss told you what to believe.
It contradicts all the evidence.
But you’ve let him paint all your images.
You’ve let him create all your facts.
Don’t Read This Poem.
Your boss’s surrogates tell you what to believe.
They are his lip service, his yes men.
Their words belie all the videos and images.
Their brains are hollow vessels hungry for truth.
You’ve let them manipulate your world.
Don’t Read This Poem.
Your boss and his spin doctors control you.
These ministers of propaganda need you to believe.
ICE killed American citizens in cold blood.
They spun this as killings of domestic terrorists.
It is best that you bury your head in the sand.
It is best that you never read this poem.
mind your own business
bury your head in the sand
are not the same thing
You are lost to me in your world of despair
I reach out to comfort you- but you say 'I don't care'
now but a shadow of the person I knew
muttering, staring, broken and blue
bottles are hidden and stashed in the trash
I thought you were broke and had no more cash
you used to be strong-as fit as a fiddle
the way your behaving- so odd- what a riddle!
clothes that are torn and ragged and your hair all astray
you need to get sorted-starting today
why wont you move- what am I to think?
you just sit there staring with eyes that don't blink
so you lost your job and I know your in ruin
sort out your bills before they start suing
watching you break is hurting so bad
I keep thinking of the good times we once had
I know now I have lost you friend-maybe for good
left with a shadow where once a man stood
I am waiting here friend to lend you a hand
stop trying to bury your head in the sand
shall I leave to wallow in self-pity and booze?
is that really the path that you want to choose?
there's really no option- I cant let you go on
tomorrow you get help- before you are gone.
Ok keep below the radar, stay out of sight,
Bury your head in the sand, do not incite,
Why get involved, it’s not your fight,
Zip up your mouth, should be alright.
Rise above them, turn the other cheek,
Play It real cool, no trouble you seek,
Come on dad, they’ll think I’m a geek,
I want to look strong, not appear weak.
Oh I see! so you want to act tough,
Look like your made, from real hard stuff,
Grind your teeth, Want to play rough,
What if they decide, to call your bluff.
Better be able, to swallow your pride,
Eat humble pie, then go take a ride,
Don’t want to be like, a little girl guide,
Run home to mummy, or go and hide.
I won’t be bullied, I’ll stand my ground,
I’m not going to get pushed around,
Face the music, go round for round,
Whoa there kid, it’s courage you found,
Got more balls than me, her dad frowned.
By
David Kavanagh
Pain, pain go away
Some days are good days, and others are not
some days are just in-between
Pain goes away, sneaks back again
making you think life is mean
Happy go lucky go out and enjoy
get your mind off what's at hand
Some of those days, you just want to scream
or bury your head in the sand
You've tried lots of things, but to no avail
movies and booze, they don't work
You've even tried swearing and yelling at clouds
but then you just feel like a jerk
Then out of the blue, you hear from your pal
miraculous, "out comes the sun"
That week of despair, is now joy in the air
you give thanks to thee "number one"
Pete Yuhas
OH MY GOD I HATE YOUR GOD
I cannot hold back the flood of tears
and it's been that way for years
kids tossed away in a garbage heap
and not even buried the traditional six feet deep
raped, defiled and killed
and this is what your god hath willed
my god is the universe
and I realize that what occurs is oftentimes a curse
but that's real life as I see it to be
and I dig the people who wish to argue with me
they talk about saints, angels and such
while I am witness to horror too much
you want to bury your head in the sand
well go ahead but i'll never understand
explain to me how you pray to a god
who doesn't read the news because he's on the nod
I cannot stop myself from the tears that flow so fluently
and my tear fall so fluidly
so go ahead and pray to a god I choose to damn
and I don't mind risking Him make me a sacrificial lamb
© 2012....copyright PHREEPOETREE ~free cee!~
When will you show me better days, my Homeland?
Don’t let us suffer, again, the past regimes,
Don’t fear, I have no claims and no demand,
I only dare to have my tiny dreams
That your own children will love this place for ever,
Putting down roots on their fathers’ fertile land,
Giving birth to your offspring with the bright future,
But they still escape your notice, my Homeland.
You don’t cry when your sons and daughters leave you,
Flying off, like birds, to nest far away, abroad.
How do you intend to build your home anew,
Losing your successors – its sturdy facade.
Tell me how to live here without any hope
Where the sun is trying hard to break through clouds.
Like Sisyphus, we roll a huge rock up a slope,
But you take no notice of the frustrated crowds.
My poor heart beats for you, my Homeland,
But what can I do except to wait, trust, and pray?
Why do you still bury your head in the sand
When your world can only fester and decay.
When will you show me, at last, your lighter face,
When will your springs wash off our sorrow?
My Homeland - our warm, wonderful birth place -
Let me awake with life-giving hope tomorrow.
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