Meltdown

" Meltdown "

The world's in a meltdown, life's in the way,
gone, is the season of wine, work and play.

Time is the culprit and sharp is the sword,
money's the path of the mad marching horde.

Doctors and lawyers and housewives are blue,
watchers and voyeurs see more than you do.

The old undertaker has made you a bed,
you're saved by your maker, you're really not dead.

You're up with the darkness and down with the day,
all of that working just gets in the way.

Down at the office they're all drawing straws
for the next sorry victim to die for the cause.

Up in the box seats they look down their nose
at those who are working, the Marys' and Joes'.

Down in the ghetto and up in the hood,
deception is standing where honor once stood.

There's not enough money to go all around,
everything's chaos when hope isn't found.

A shiny black limo will roll down the drive,
now all of us wonder are we really alive?

Back in the graveyard there's peace in the shade,
they rest in forever, where dreams are replayed.

Nothing is sacred and days have grown long
still there's the question, where did we go wrong?

© Copyright 2010 T.L.Finch (UN: t.l.finch at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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