Tuesday, April 12, 2011

A Sad Song

Bass drum
Bass drum,
Heavy wailing hum
initiating the wake up call to the uneducated bum who let himself out to be hung
by the holy machine
and those once called Big Nurse,

by who he is-
            an aggravated kid with no intelligence to cultivate what he lost,

by righteous God who represented a figure in command, not actually holy, but still something to place faith in to save him,

by pure arrogance corroding and destroying the life he now won’t live,
Instead sent to the pit to be a combine in line with the rest of the combines
working with the machine

Not the individual wealthy free thinker he pictured he’d be, dressed in gold, bathing in silver and crystal
eating emerald, dining with William and Juliet,
lounging about with the Queen Elizabeths,

continues on this sad song of a seed gone so wrong,
falling south into the mouth of futureless averageness
where no one hears the strumming hum of his bass drum.

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