(I wrote and posted this a year ago, I felt it coming, now we are going to see it coming!)
As I go stumping through the day
full filling dreams of other’s say
I count the months and the day
That I’ll be free on my own highway
I’m not young I have reached the age
that I can crawl from this cage
Take some time to disengage
Be free of toil and daily wage
Write a word, build a craft
Drink my whiskey, have a laugh
Get up late then take a nap
Put on my head a liberal’s hat
Scream the words, that I’ve suppressed
Of oil and air and climate’s mess
Opinions kept, so close to chest
Like a caged bird sings, I will confess
Protest and rage, make a change
March the streets, rearrange
For I sold out for profit’s gains
All along we were all shortchanged
It’s not too late, songs will be sung
Painted signs and banners hung
On granite steps, speeches flung
Our 60’s youth not wasted, on the 60’s young.
E.
DistantShipSmoke 