5.13.2008

Untitled

The wind in the willows,
The twinkle in the stars.
The white picket fence,
Or the red sports cars.

The perfect of perfects,
The best of the best.
The nice things we have,
Here in the west.

While others will suffer,
We will live on.
The parties at seven,
And work starts at dawn.

We think we’re good people,
As we try to donate.
To foreign starving children,
With death as their fate.

Some to the homeless,
Some to the sick.
Just a few donations,
Please make it quick.

We have started wars,
Killed to no measure.
Some for bits of land,
And some for our pleasure.

As our economy rises,
Our awareness may fall.
Just ask yourself,
Do we care at all?

When someone falls,
Lend him your hand.
I will finally ask,
Where, do you stand?

1 comment:

Lydiajustine said...

good poem Matt

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