I want every river to have a rhythm
But not every life to have a system.
Not every owl has wisdom,
And not every church goer has religion
So why doesn't everybody listen
To their hearts instead of the television?
We have too many people wasting lives
Not listening to their minds
But the lies they hear instead.
Not enough time spent listening to the dead,
And what they have said
About the thoughts in your head.
Not enough days are left
But still we rest and lay dormant
While our minds remain torpid.
We're not opinionated so we're warped and
Molded and the held
In the hands of the government so horrid.
So horrid as to mold our minds
Then bind us to the glass ceiling
And ground us to the dumb beings
We call the American;
A river without rhythm
With the similar symptoms
Of a somatic being who is mentally dead.
A dramatic personification of a pumpkin head
On the dead horseman
Who rides where the horse takes him
For he cannot see.
How are you supposed to be all you can be
When what you're supposed to be is something
That envies other yet acts arrogant?
Somebody who wears a suite
And pretends to be smarter than a scholar
Yet acts ignorant.
They state the relevance of their intelligence
But can't even manage to balance a budget.
And when states segregate on terms of the reverent,
The smartest of them all cannot come up with a settlement.
This is the American.
The river without the rhythm,
Filled with boats and fish,
Dreams and a wish
To have a white picket fence
To surround their personal fortress.
The fish, boats and dreams
Don't move just as the wish doesn't come true;
The idle march of the American Being;
The progressive death of the American Dream.
