Crosses Burning # 2
Native America tragedy,
cant escape the curse of history,
poverty has its remedies,
none of which are good.
crystal meth and crack cocaine,
Devil drives that old train,
cant fix the hole or ease the pain,
and wouldnt if it could...
still the wheel of life
keeps on turning;
in the land of illusions,
crosses burning.
small town heroes falling,
the ghosts of freedom calling,
yet the truth is quite appalling,
pawns in the game.
Wall Street ghouls in trench coats,
tax incentives, life boats,
dont know which way the wind blows,
numbers without a name.
still the wheel of life
keeps on turning;
in the land of manipulation,
crosses burning.
cant tell the truth from a lie,
you live and work and then you die,
cant take it with you if you try,
lost inside a maze.
redemption or salvation,
the train has left the station
for a greedy soulless nation,
who profits and who pays?
still the wheel of life
keeps on turning;
in the land of denial,
crosses burning.
addicted to foreign oil,
incursions on foreign soils,
enough to make your blood boil,
when enough is enough.
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poem by Eric Cockrell
Added by Poetry Lover
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