As he pondered on pollution
I could see his fear
looking for solution
expressed with a tear
...
Though your heart is broken into tiny little shards
pick them up and go
like a thousand armed guards
without them
...
King Tuts Tomb
in the valley of kings
his deaths womb
among his things
...
As time goes by like it does
I want to cry for what once was
I look back at the places my folks have been
I see their faces in the wind
...
As I stand on this gallow, a wreck
trembling with a rope around my neck
looking at people looking at me upon this wooden deck
knowing they will pull the pin and send me to my death
...
One morning I seen a flower facing east
looking at the sun
it followed the sun to say the least
looking west when the day was done
...
The snow keeps coming down
ever now and then
the plows come around
and scoops it again
...
The stone was weathered
I couldnt read the name
still people gathered
just the same
...
As we graze upon reality
is there something we dont see
while I sit and take a glance
I wonder if its all by chance
...
In our wagon
cutting through the trail
not much food to be braggin
nor water in our pail
...