Greatful for whatever days remain
Sun comes up, I look to the sky
Too tired to work, too young to die
Fight to rewrite should and shouldn't
Minimize size of eco footprint
Erase my tracks: too convoluted
Chew on tacks, bloodstream polluted
Just like the river that runs through the town
Brownfield crop yeild, ruined ground
At the end of the age, folks living large
Through the needle's eye spy the One in charge
No comments:
Post a Comment