Tomorrow’s Gift

The gift tomorrow brings,

Is not for the likes of you and me

The gift we give yesterday,

Comes from all the little things

Heart beats wax and wane,

With the shifting of the moon

And all we can hope,

Is that tomorrow comes for us soon

Silver scythe,

Reaps the golden wheat

And the souls that it sows

Grow up only to weep

Does that make sense to you?

For it makes none to me

Why do we concern ourselves,

With all the little things?

The real world is a mass production,

Churning out children on a big assembly line

“We don’t need no education”

“Another brick in the wall”

Have you ever seen that video?

Did you watch the children fall?

Ground up, and spit out,

Each a miniature copy of the next

While fat politicians argue

About which creation of theirs is the best

Everybody here gets the chance to shine,

But nobody does it on their own time

Ground up and spit out

Hah.

Life,

What a laugh!

You pause for a second,

And suddenly

You’re in the past.