Fight, whether right or wrong
stand up for your dignity
or simply be led along
the garden path of a fools destiny
Fight for your way of life
or be ground into dust
by the machine.
Soulless creatures with gods of lucre
mindless fools that pray
rather than create their own Sucre
and beauty is a commodity
Much like a fish about to go bad
the price gets lower
No sale, so sad.
Mortality mortality, where does it go?
try not to think about it
but its always there (you know) ,
I enclose myself in my house, my cocoon
maybe it will leave me alone
not come too soon.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem