Psh-h-h-h!

Sandy brown, boulders around.
Dangling from the edge.
Hum-drum monotone sound.
Standing on a ledge.

Smoke and ash both fill the eyes,
Both fill the air and mouth.
All said and done, it's no surprise
That all is headed South.

Psh-h-h-h!

Crack-a-lack-a-jack-a-wack-a
What does it all mean?
Reality will surely smack ya
Like an icy queen.

Come what may to your dismay.
You hurt with no reprieve.
Pray and pray, but anyway
You still have much to grieve.

Psh-h-h-h!

Only bills, no frills, no thrills
What will be the end?
With no blanket for the chills,
No helping hand to lend?

No turning back. You get no slack
From the crude, rude flow.
Little time and so much lack.
How did it get this low?

Psh-h-h-h!

Corporate grind. Conformist mind.
Responsibility.
All manure that you endure
Is corporate policy.

Getting later--getting better?
Shapes of more to come?
Then go to sleep and leave a letter.
Change your luck so dumb.

Psh-h-h-h!