Them? and us?
Posted: Tue Dec 24, 2002 4:26 pm
Whoever ‘they’ are, and whoever ‘us’ is, there is a lot of injustice in this world, and I needed to get rid of some anger.
You who know it all
You who see it all
You who stand well back
You who none attack
You who say we ‘should’
You who ‘know what’s good’
You who never stray
You who ‘point’ our way
You who smile to please
You who lie with ease
You who ‘once’ felt pain
You who ‘once’ felt strain
You who stay detached
You who none can match
You who call the tune
You who have ‘the spoon’
You who have good homes
You who hear our groans,
You who’ve read The Book
But pass without a look,
You who prick our dreams
And scatter them like leaves,
You who tax our needs
And then ignore our bleeds
You who ‘once’ felt stress
Then endlessly address
Those of us who ‘cry’
While quickly passing by.
You who know it all
And claim to bleed for all,
You who talk the talk
Making promises in chalk
You who die in bed
Whilst we who live in dread
Of you who rule with awe.
While we must sweep your floor,
And still we walk the road
We who heft your load
We who fall and weep
We who thirst for sleep
We who seek some peace
We who crave release
We who tear our hair
We whose’ souls are bare
We who crawl and retch
We in hunger fetch
Your jewels and shining gold
While prematurely old
We who wail and whine
While you drink from the vine,
We who ache and shout
But you who keep us out
And beat us down with blows
And pray to He who knows.
May God bless your Church and steeple
But Hell is other people.
You who know it all
You who see it all
You who stand well back
You who none attack
You who say we ‘should’
You who ‘know what’s good’
You who never stray
You who ‘point’ our way
You who smile to please
You who lie with ease
You who ‘once’ felt pain
You who ‘once’ felt strain
You who stay detached
You who none can match
You who call the tune
You who have ‘the spoon’
You who have good homes
You who hear our groans,
You who’ve read The Book
But pass without a look,
You who prick our dreams
And scatter them like leaves,
You who tax our needs
And then ignore our bleeds
You who ‘once’ felt stress
Then endlessly address
Those of us who ‘cry’
While quickly passing by.
You who know it all
And claim to bleed for all,
You who talk the talk
Making promises in chalk
You who die in bed
Whilst we who live in dread
Of you who rule with awe.
While we must sweep your floor,
And still we walk the road
We who heft your load
We who fall and weep
We who thirst for sleep
We who seek some peace
We who crave release
We who tear our hair
We whose’ souls are bare
We who crawl and retch
We in hunger fetch
Your jewels and shining gold
While prematurely old
We who wail and whine
While you drink from the vine,
We who ache and shout
But you who keep us out
And beat us down with blows
And pray to He who knows.
May God bless your Church and steeple
But Hell is other people.