Shuffle to the Sound of a Passing Train

I feel like I'm wasting time

As if I should improve something of mine

Build something stupid to take up some space

Take part in tragedy and say it's a phase

Record a fading echo and take it as my own

Sue all those bastards who won't leave it alone

Invent something brutal to benefit mankind

And charge the spoiled public a dollar ninety-nine

The world as a collective smokes a burnt cigarette

Then complain about the cancer that they often forget

Man and woman toil over their individual quirks

Deadbeats pillage while the honest face the hurt

Skyscrapers vandalized, fell down and exploded

Busy, heedless people get fired or demoted

Office supplies are stolen without any delay

Later that day, the wrong man was electrocuted away

At the funeral people were crying and sobbing aloud

While the guilty found parole and is on his way out

He takes his first steps, with a wave to the crowd

A single gunshot rings and he's down for the count

The once innocent plead while the dirty lay and bleed

With a right to remain silent but with no real capacity

Everything feels filthy when touched with clean hands

What's able to eat your skin is enough to kill a man

And what we do as the audience is simply feel your pain

The poets dramatize you as reporters increase the strain

We act as if we care but we just love to watch you squirm

Misery loves its company and we're all miserable in return

Spines continue cracking and the power keeps going out

The tall and the mighty prey upon the short and the stout

People say things backwards in hopes that you'll understand

But without really saying anything what's there to comprehend

We assume we can live comfortably by avoiding it all

Eventually we're destined to fall one hell of a mighty fall

In the near future I promise, we'll have nothing smart to say

While the world as a collective just gets out of the way.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

I'm proud of myself this time around.

View sivus's Full Portfolio