The Sins Of The Father

In the hearts of the young to the old
within every wondering soul, a spirit both bold and cold
When the sins of our past become the future’s task
destiny demeans, demons feeding of our children’s dream
s

Like the sting from winter’s lash
the buzzing flies of our dirty deeds now stinking trash
With the dollar in hand humanity be damn
the peddling of tender flesh to our environmental mess

Greed succeeds while we all bleed
the strong proceeds, the weak and weary cry and plead
I say this not in jest, no one will come forth to confess
as our sewage crest, our survival is fifty fifty at best.

Wall Street to Main Street children going bare feet
Who knew, Madison Ave twisting our personal view
Those with plenty will take a seat too many will not eat
will we raise up and speak, before demise is complete

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