For every step of progress

I feel I regress

For every advance

I retreat

There is no perfect balance

That I can keep

No way to create perfection

Keep the lies from a second

Resurrection

Days where weights feel constrained

On my neck

My throat

I go to yell and all I have is a moan

I go to scream

Nothing more than a thin veiled beam

I don’t believe in conspiracy theory

But here we are

Saluting the one percenters

While we are sent cascading into our own graves

Way down

Where the banks collect our clothes

Where the dollar man knows our home

There is no protection

When the problems of insufficient funds

Makes it’s final connection

How did we get to a place of such

Deadly extremes

Some blow up Bentley’s

While other can’t keep up

It seems

Today I fear my future

For more progress means more indebtedness

How can I pull through

When it all seems too much

I get a rush of blood

To my head

I must start again

Create my own hope and go forward

Look to the sky

Keeping my eyes on the prize

Hope will come

Success will come

It has to come

Or we are all to be undone