A swarm of misguided
Souls
Leads the party
Into the depths of confusion
By taking the last hope
Of individual freedom
And smashing it
For their statue of idols
Placed on the throne
Oh well
See the grocery bill
And move on
With life
Controlled
The floor that we walk on
Spaghetti lace dress
I move with slow intention
To see the best
Of a world encompassed in moss
Unclear to the eye
The thunder of hope
Beats out
To hear the notes
In the sky
What was the place
Where we began
To lose our minds
The dysfunction of time
Wasted
Is now set
Deep in my pen
As I write to you
A verse
Of confusion
In a life
That has become
Much less
Amusing
Where is such a talent
A virtue buried
In the wide open
Spaces that make up
Life that we live
How can we be
Such complacent beings
With no sense of
Mortality
I ask this as a hopeful
Idea
In the back
Of your mind
To be endured
With long hands
Holding the grips
Of the changing world
What we feel
Is what we live
And what we hear
From those we know
We make a certain jump
From the life
We have had
The cynical words
Fell from my lips
Regrettably
At the time
Imperfect
But what is perfection
If procrastination takes hold
So I am working through
The errors I have made
To be a better
Man
The value of
Goods
Or actions
Compared to the weight
Of words
What is the measure
That holds all equal
So that we can see
What happens
To us
When we are sold
For nothing
On the selling block
The voice
Of annoying words
Said
Sad
In the moments
Of truth
How can I handle the words
From this world
Now
In the orange light
Of fall
Upon the grass
Of the later
Part of the year
We have hopes
Of what is to come
In the time
We have
Together
When was the last
Cordial
Political
Movement
Of virtue over
Destruction
Is that posible
In today’s world
With hard words the norm
What can we do
To be kind to
Each
Other
A Cup of Songwriting 