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Tomorrow
I can't believe you don't believe
we just rolled passed your fenced in home
But we left something behind
People looking and thinking if we're their kind
I feel like a clown
Then you pretend We're not around
People know where they are
Savoir faire the only suite to wear
The demands of workers
Silent pockets of greedy corporations
You can reach down you'll be found
Knee deep in butterfly farts
How can I stand behind him
Memories of alien foot prints
Deep in the woods
Where only I exists
A man called many things but not called you
Different times of his life
Like chickadees mobbing a blackbird
Dont lean on me
I stand half fallen
Being torn from my beliefs
Seeing nothing come out
The machine is not working
They don't dance anymore
But its just like nothing happened
I don't want to be part
Part of this shadow
Part of a life
That knows kind
But won't ever find time
We got too much pride
It's just another day
Copyright ©
Greg Slode Smith
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