Bring Out Your Dead Poem by Gomer LePoet

Bring Out Your Dead

bring out your dead, that's what the collector said,
in a barrel or a box, with or without a pair of socks,
no one shall cry, not interested in where or why

the teacher should never stop learning,
young hearts should never stop yearning

Roll up the streets, can't take those rhythmic beats,
Shut the city down, the senator is a part time clown,
fight the winless fight, keeping low below the light

reaching out to the weary and fallen,
hoping you hear them all callin'

I can't remember when I knew just what was going on
seems I have lost my connection
praying that soon the guilty well be gone
it's time to change, my direction

pull your bootstraps up, on the corner with a paper cup,
dig deeper down, hold your chin up, refuse to frown,
show them all your grit, refusing to ever quit

the schemers will never stop scheming
the dreamers should never stop dreaming

Gomer LePoet