Stuck


The old are supposed to be wise, but sometimes they are not,

I have got a lot of questions to ask, they need answering,

But like me they don’t have the answers, so who does?

A chosen few who seem to hide with the shadows in the night,

Who is wrong? Who is right? Young and old alike…

Are lost, stuck on a Planet that has lost its soul,

Materialism has replaced the Human spirit,

My lyrics have preserved mine, listen closely you can hear it,

 
When I was young an old man once said;

“Son you can’t live without money you need it”,

I found that funny as he was wrong,

I unequivocally believe he still is,
I can’t live without water and the Sun,

Parents can’t live without daughters and sons,

I can’t live without my mind, heart and lungs,

As I would be unable to think or breathe as one,

 
Plus Pre-Agricultural people survive without money,

They hunt and gather for food and water in a tribe,

Hoping to fill up their tummies, if you eat then you survive,

They don’t have any comprehension of our way of life,

But do we have any understanding of theirs?

They are strangers to money, brands and T.V,

But believe me they understand and love the Planet,

We just pollute and destroy it, society and…

Civilisation as we know it will sink like Atlantis,

And the titanic as we continue to live in fear and panic,

 
Words fly like birds from my tongue,

Hoping to reach people each and everyone,

Without it I would be unable to speak,

The World would never hear my eloquent tone,

My beak would never quack, just a silent duck…

On his own, all alone unable to communicate,

Unable to debate, still I would have my friend,

My pen I would be lost without it, my World would end,

 
But without money, I can’t afford to eat,

And I can’t hunt and gather for food as I was born…

Into a completely different World, I am stuck,

Fucked if civilisation decides to self destruct and ends like a book,

I was born on this Planet called Earth,

Why should I have to pay to live? People starve over a lack of paper,

Ever since my birth, I’ve struggled to understand the ways of the World,

People are violent continuously baying for blood,

Greedy for material goods, I am hungry for peace and love,

But all I see is war and hate, if I could change the World then…

I would, but I can’t As really I have no real power or control,

Over what happens, I’m just another hurt, lost and sad soul,

 
You have to be a hypocrite to make money, I am a hypocrite,

I hate my job. I disagree with the occupation itself,

But without money I would have no clothes or good health,

Without money I would be homeless without a house,

This World is full of injustices, it is so cruel and unfair,

But who cares, it gets me angry, seriously I am fuming,

I refuse to be quiet like a mouse, I have a voice…

I have a choice to do as I please as long as I’m not…

Hurting anyone so let me live my days in peace,

I’m surprised the elite haven’t had the sun in the sky…

Charge me for using its heat, I also steal from the air,

So am I an oxygen thief? I didn’t pay for this breath,

What’s next? Will they charge me to breathe?

If they decide to do that, I’ll be the first person to leave.

 

 
Written by: Perspicacious Outcast (John Paul Harrington)

Originally Written: Wednesday 18th January 2017

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