Ourselves useful kid unused

 

Mean head thick future

 

Order before law

 A mother screams, a child's last cling,

No parting bells, just anguish's sting.

No court to hear, no judge to weigh,

Just snatched, then vanished, in broad day.

"For common good!" the leaders chant,

Ignoring every fervent rant

Of broken hearts, of lives undone,

Beneath a cruel and indifferent sun.

The dream they sought, now dust and bone,

Their cries unheard, their future sown

In cold exile, a foreign land.

Cast off and lost, by harsh command.

Today their name, a whispered dread,

But legal bounds are quickly shed.

That "illegal" word, they taught you well,

Becomes the chain, where your kin will fall.

When justice fades, for just a few,

The same harsh hand will come for you.

Matters unapprehended money luxury

 

Can I hear you now?

 Did I even pause, really?

To see if there were two ways,

three ways, maybe even more,

to meet your words?

Was my listening wide enough,

deep enough,

to catch the echoes,

the unsaid things,

the layers beneath the last sound you made?

Or was my own narrative,

that loud, relentless drum,

just beating its rhythm

right over yours?

Was my answer already forming,

set in stone,

before you even began that sentence?

Did I hear you?

Or just the opening for me?

Be fear exist construct

 

Could'a Should'a Would'a Now

Can't just paint it clean,

Like it warn't foreseen,

That ugly ol' scene,

Makes your spirit lean.

Could'a spoke out clear,

Should'a lost that fear,

Would'a held so dear,

Now it ain't right here.

Ain't no other soul,

Plays the final role,

We lose all control,

Diggin' our own hole.

Could'a crossed that bend,

Should'a made a friend,

Would'a reached the end,

Now it just won't mend.

This ol' life ain't fair,

But we put it there,

All that heavy care,

From the choices we bear.

Could'a sailed that stream,

Should'a chased that dream,

Would'a made life gleam,

Now just a shadow's beam.