I once met a girl who claimed
That flattery will get you anywhere.
I had hoped she spoke in jest,
But her eyes were serious in her stare.
I asked myself, "Who the hell am I to judge?"
Hey, I got a secret I'd like to share.
Life was hard and I lost track of truth.
I don't know what's right. Do I really care?
I think I know what's wrong, though.
And, by God, it's quite common, not rare.
I see it everyday, and two wrongs won't
Make a right, but they will fix a tear.
Right and wrong is black and white,
And the world is like a freakin' snare:
You're born into it, exposed to it,
Forced to make a living in its lair.
Depression, my eyes bloodshot red,
Forced to witness pain and despair.
I look to the treaties and days goneby,
Is this the vision of my forebears?
It's so unfair, I want to swear.
Deeply ensnared, can't climb the stairs.
I'm so unprepared, and I declare:
Of right and wrong, I'm unaware.
Next words, yo: birth, right, legacy.
Hmmm... I re-read my poem, and I think I exaggerated my view on morality. Oh well.
Last edited by NDN Scholar; 12-16-2010 at 08:14 PM.