fauxcroft

More souls on the fringes of life

Some being born, some ready to die,

And I sit here looking up at the sky

What is it all about, this kind of life,

Where for some they’re born with a silver spoon

Implanted very firmly in their mouths,

But for others they are born into hardship

It’s going to be one long hard struggle down it the pit

Where we, the poor etch out a living,

Yet somehow we stay happy despite our misgivings,

We’ll work until we drop and live off the slops

Meanwhile the better off will drink champagne

And will party and shop until they drop,

I guess this is life and this is our lot

It’s not like we won’t try to break out and break free

I for one am never accepting of anything,

I am no spring chicken but  I am not ready for the chop

And I am still connecting the dot to dots,

That will find a path and avenue to lead all out of the mire

So we can clamber out and start to admire,

The finer things in life and finally get the chance to taste them

But we’re oppressed and kept down by those who think we’re waste men,

And the systems rigged against, sponsored by the government

And the media re-enforces it, so what can we really do,

Well I for one say keep fighting and kicking up a stink

And never forget it’s important to think,

Or yourself and not to just follow, the rules that they make

They can’t even abide by them, for these laws they also break,

So when I see these poor souls on the fringes of life

Some of them are ready to be born, some are ready to die,

I wonder what’s the point of it and I question why,

Are we still here, living here in the hardship

Well it’s because the system doesn’t care ane bit,

For those who are about to be born or to die

And end up struggling just like us, barely able to exist.