Poem 21
The Youth of Our Nation Will Free Us

 

I pulled myself up by my bootstraps,
They pulled me back down with their tithe,
To pay for the wages of safety,
To fund their interminable drive.

 

To service their rapacious masters,
Whose largesse is liberally served,
While those who believed in our freedom,
Left sitting without any nerve.

 

To follow the will of the people,
Regardless of polls at that time,
To think of the rights of the single,
Man, woman or yet unborn child.

 

Upon a great Hill stood a notion,
That innocence guided the land,
Devoted to freedom so priceless,
That freedmen would cut off their hands.

 

To have just a moment of passion.
A moment that breathed the divine,
Through boughs that shook gently in springtime,
But bent as they danced for a dime.

 

As each of the sirens that showed up,
And sang such a pertinent song,
Accompanied by sponsors and donors,
Whose reasons for earning were not long.

 

Their greed and their masters were calling,
To govern the land of the free,
To deliver the votes for the ruling,
Regardless of what may yet be.

 

No conscious inaction between them,

Though children might never run free,
Indebted by those few among us,
Who righteously govern and see.

 

That most of the governed are lazy,
Three squares and a cot are for free.
A phone for the poor and a baggie,
An election is here guaranteed.

 

No matter the things that concern us,
As long as we all disagree,
Instead we will argue between us,
While those at the top buy for free.

 

The debt that they knew when extended,
Beyond means most debtors would be,
Threatened by bankrupt foreclosure,
Cast out of the life they'd agreed.

 

Still most of the people among us,
Think time is a circle of facts.
That soon there will be little patience,
That history will repeat its tacts.

 

The system that hurts us is only,
As strong as the negligible few,
We'll stand and deliver the message,
No standing for slick servitude.

 

No leaving our children indebted
Their learning confined to a score,
That measures their will to repeat us,
Of which they are interminably bored.

 

Consider a moment their actions,
When finally we pass away,
Consider a moment their anger,
Would you want to stand in their way?

 

The levers of power destroyed us,
Indebted to comfort and war,
The youth of our nation will free us,
And show all our masters the door.

 

09.11.2013

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Charles F Berman Jr