I told you once before, remember?
How time’s a devil and the days are evil
Looking back we take for granted
Present tense, we slay at random
Speak in riddles, forked intentions
Not to mention (bones) contentions
Lyrics come to play (they mock me)
Keeps my joy at bay (completely)
Why do I hear messages
In those voodoo beats you spin?
Veves to hold your Loa
Sacrificing sanity
Invocations for your god head
Talisman you hide in your bed
Freedom flies like wicked birds
With time we drown in wasted words
In cauldrons stirred with dark ideas
Conjuring those storms unknown
Grieving life that’s not your own
But who am I to say I’m sorry?
I was never one to worry

C’est la vie, what’s done is done
Another chapter has begun
The plot goes nowhere, time will tell
And still, I fear the worse
This curse to why I babble
The rabble you have wrangled
And the poppets you have strangled
Yes, getting to the point doth stab
Disjointed thoughts to fill the gap
Some time to waste, or will to sap
Like cackling brainless politicians
Spinning spells with vain aspersions
Creating word-salad diversions
From what is truly going on
The dream once cherished,
Dead or dying
The country’s rotting (no denying)
Infiltrated by design
Coexistence (out of time)
Tolerance (A state of Trance)
And does this line offend you, yes?
I guess I should just say I’m sorry
But I was never one to worry

Perhaps you’ve heard the news
We’re often judged by how we bleed
The company of fools we choose
The flesh and blood on which we feed
We’re called to spy on dearest friends
Who drop their masks below their chins
Who speak their minds with honest lines
Who gather closets for their sins
But I’m the messenger, hold your fire
A slave to loss and vain desires
Bleeding red the same as you
Dead to some degree, it’s true
Avoiding my reality
With words, and prose, and rhymes galore
Name brands for a fashion whore
You’re saying nothing (all been done)
Nothing new under the sun
Crying in the shadows
While unraveling your story
For this indeed, I’m truly sorry
Still, I’m never the sort to worry

Even though I’m dying daily
Paying taxes for a dream
Someone’s dream, not mine or yours
Just blood stains on a killing floor
You twist these turns like lemon rinds
Ignore the truth as if you’re blind
Work for nothing, share the wealth
Trading travel bans for health
Just stick this spike into your arm
Our motto here is (do no harm)
You’ll trust the science as you die
Dry your eyes, no need to cry
Just shut your face and stay inside
There’s no safe place for you to hide
Don’t want to live? No problem friend
We’ll guide you too your perfect end
You made the right decision
Animism (world religion)
Offering me hope and change
From all the shit you’ve caused
Lying for a living
Trading life for vain applause
Are you upset? If so, I’m sorry
Still, I’m not the type to worry

No lines on your horizon now
No need to wonder why or how
The oceans rise a little more
The planet groans a little more
Another storm, another war
Another pain that you adore
Some acid rain to sting the eyes
Some ice to steal your breath
You killed another polar bear
Some penguins on the fly
A wale or two, it must be true
A climate crime without a clue
This ritual to Mother Nature
New World goddess
Have you heard?
Pimped out as control
Deception burns inside a word
Now, should I worry? I think not!
It’s just a story don’t you see?
Another tool to fool the masses
Gaslighting our history
Stealing joy and feeding fear
Socially engineered, my dear
You think me mad? If so, I’m sorry
Still, I’m not the type to worry

I scare myself a little more
With every turning page
Building paper cages
To contain my written rage
Tucked so neat behind my teeth
The treatise (incomplete)
Lines of demarcation,
Promises in cracked concrete
No footprints in the hourglass sands
Dividing lines cut through my hands
And so, you’ve lost your place in line
They gave your land to someone new
Ancestral God who once inspired
Replaced by mindless, liberal fools
Teaching lies inside the schools
Capturing fractured minds like Mao
Marxist manifesto (wow!)
Each according to his ability,
To each according to his needs
This is how society bleeds
A thousand cuts, a million seeds
You don’t agree? I’m truly sorry
Still, I’m not the type to worry

TM DiSarro

©2024 TM DiSarro / MindScapes Publishing