They are the powerless people condemned by their life's destiny
And by their circumstance of birth to live in poverty
As well as lacking in financial power on election day
Few of them play any part in the electoral process in any sort of a way
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I must be lacking on insight if i can only see
The human flaws in others but not the flaws in me
But in moments of self analysis one comes to realize
That what we dislike in others in ourselves we recognize
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Five years ago successful and an admired one of the town
But things for him quite different now since financially he is down
When he declared bankruptcy his wife left him and with her took their two young daughters such is life as some do say
When in financial trouble you know who your true friends are it has always been this way
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In my flights of fancy i hear and i see
A male pink breasted chaffinch on high branch of leafy birch tree
Singing in the quiet of the evening just before sundown
In a rushy field just west of Millstreet Town
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The wonders of Nature an amazing thing
Migratory waders fly north to breed in the Arctic Spring
And to escape the harsh Arctic Winter fly south again
The mysteries of Nature as a mystery remain
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Since any deceased person i have known has not come back to me to tell
Of the existence of a Heaven or of the existence of a Hell
Of life after bodily death how am i to know
Since of the existence of such anyone has not proof to me for to show
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A beauty money i do not pay to see
The beauty of Nature is all around me
On this showery October day in the prime of the Spring
The nesting wild birds of Nature do whistle and sing
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In life many lessons as some like to say
And of Nature we learn new things every day
The magpies with their feathers fluffed in the morning sun lay
For to take in the sunshine this is their way
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Out of war and blood letting many heroes are made
And for living and dead war heroes many a street parade
And at the war memorial the last post by the lone bugler played
The war supposed to end all wars from history not allowed to fade
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For the last four decades of my life i have been a rhyming buff
And in that time it can be said i have penned reams of stuff
I am not a poet never said i was i am just one who pens rhyme
Though some i know do look on this as a big waste of time
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