On This Day

11502602646_7541be5447_oby Taymaz Valley11 Apr 2015

Bottle of your cheapest scotch barkeep.
You can’t afford that sonny,
why don’t you get some rye whiskey?
Drink till the morning comes,
stand outside the unemployment line
with all the disdained down on their luck,
with the one too many high as a kite,
with the single mothers sporting fresh vomit,
the young musicians played out for a poppet,
with all those who can’t make ends meet
even though they want to do the work scene,
wash dishes, paint walls, with blistered fingers dig;
with all the begrudged new immigrants
whose degrees aren’t worth a pittance,
with the refugee who doesn’t speak any English
let alone French, constantly taunted for her appearance.

Skin and bones are a thing of the past,
everyone’s stocking up on trans fats,
cheap burgers and processed cheese,
bleached flour buns and GMO beans.
Old man on the right on his third heart attack,
doesn’t care about oil sands and the environment.
Death and suffering surrounds me,
look carefully and you too shall see,
on the roadside, in the workhouse,
on the newly paved road,
in the pain riddled hospitals,
in the industrial abattoirs, neglected men
torture, torment, beat
defenseless animals out of boredom.

We are a cruel species indeed,
selfish and unremorseful,
concerned only for our own status,
fame and financial wellbeing;
but, the world turns and the new day comes,
the long winters turn into triumphant springs,
decisions are made and changes happen,
we heal our wounds and mend our sores,
we awake every morning
with the one thing that is worth fighting for,
that priceless, precious piece of soul:
hope for a better tomorrow.

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