CARTA VENDETTA
12/1/10
I invite to a visitation in which kill off the ideals
Of each generation
Extermination
Young ones
Old ones
Middle ones
Weak ones
Bold ones
Molded ones
You think it matters
That you climbed ladders
Teetering
Tottering
Are your systems
And proclamations
To go forth in a dark world
Your plan has no light
You’ve labeled as not bright
So here I am
Putting cognition
To adequate suspicion
Let me rub some dirt
On top of the dirt in your eyes
I tell you clearly
You aim so high
For yourself
But when have you ever seen the skies
You thinking looking at stats
Make excellent facts
In front suites and ties
I tell you
I despise
Despise that you get better recognized for these things
Corporate media
Blunders that whimper victory
They play the death song
On the fourth and fifth
The symphony
You’re weak
And I to you I hold no sympathy
No I’m not a Communist
Or a politician
I’m not a terrorist
Don’t you dare raise your finger in suspicion?
Where is your vision?
X Generation
A new millennia
Look at what you’ve accomplished
You’ve feasted on plates of stocks
And credit cards
New systems of exchange
New wars
Faster cars and plans
Producing tight wads
With their pants so full
The guys in suites
Have become pocket pickers
Of old dying couples
And little widows
Looking out their windows
Wishing their loved ones
Would just come back home
And we said
Well done
You protagonists
You mountain climbers
You of the passing age
You’ve branded your insignia on a new page
Well done
And then next generation comes
And says
We can fix everything
Make it work
Put a new look on it
We’re tired of their system
They had no vision
No understanding
Proper health
Takes proper planning
But when does health sit on a pedestal
Get off your soap box
You’re making yourselves into fouls
Do you not see it?
Pride, lust, greed, anger
You’re all in danger
Of making the same mistake
It isn’t in for corporate sake
There’s enough good people
But all good people have gods
The incest
Broken gods
That robed so many joyful years
For the sad people
When do we mend hearts?
When in these sequences do we decide to part?
With the old ways
In make new days
That shine brighter than before
This our vendetta
Our love to share and pour
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