poetry

Dying race

For every king there is a martyr

like every fire has a starter

and other peoples pain usually ends up in our laughter

ha ha

it's just the way that things are

call it yin and yang call it karma

it's the balance, it's how things work

like how all light cast a shadow, and all life comes from dirt

we are all put on this earth

we all get a start

do you follow the rest

or make your own path

the choices we make

the life that we take

all determine our place

in this hell of a rat race

and freedom is the word I've heard them use

but free means your life is yours to choose

we must abide by the rules they make

but are these the paths i wish to take

are these the things i think serve best

to my soul, to my spirit to my conscience

i know these things i do are wrong

but we've all been doing them for so long

we are destroying this place with our greed

we forget we are all given all that we need

i know this truth is hard to face

but isn't it hard enough now, running a dying race?