All Of The People
Date: Monday, 1st August 2011 @ 11:11:50 AM AEST Topic: Sad Poetry
Contributed By: theurbanpoet
All of the children, playing on the playground,
Ring of Roses so fast they make a hole in the ground,
Where they'll bury themselves when their work's done,
Epitaph reads - "As quickly as he was here, he was gone"
All of the boys on the factory floor,
Blood-soaked money in their hands, couldn't ask for more,
You can take their souls as long as they can pay their way,
Like men before, that factory will take their life some day.
All of the poets, in the gutter they lie,
Drenched in rain made of tears that the world has cried,
They hold up their signs, asking commuters for change,
The real change they want made them an outcast, deranged.
All of the people, the alarm awakes them at dawn,
Their souls removed from the day they are born,
Working their way until they join their brothers in the sky,
All of the people, just living to die.
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