For those kids without mothers, the brothers with no brothers.

For those people judged on sidewalks by passing kangaroos

All tied up by metallic vinyl cages on man's invention

Man's inventions of a litetime - several lifetimes.

Several million                                      lifetimes.

Every single time.

For the conservation of the masses plus all of their massive

   anchors in the lines that go nowhere where they were supposed to be.

For those babies without comfort, dears that don't deserve hurt.

For those without voices, without pants and with no sure

    way to satisfy and be satisfied day by

Day. 

 

For those without the perks or the works, 

even the jerks

Deserve some freedoms, some rights in defense

against what hurts.

No one deserves to hurt nor have the priveledge

To put others to work

against their Wills. 

 

For those without a place to eat, who can't afford to sleep. 

Always hounded by the world, lord, their brother's keep

Them.

They spend it all before they fall,

All on a mess of clouds to take them home, strange home.

All in a day's work-a-holic's children's hearts,

so starved

for attention           and for voices.

 

Not the voices of memories but those of the future.

Not those of the past, but heard today.

The kind that bring love and compassion and confidence.

Truth and sincerity, trust and prosperity. 

Run from the jackals and tear off the shackles.

Live every day your own special way,

keep those voices at bay, unless heard today.

 

For the walkers and the runners, the talkers and the gunners.

For victims of silence, kindness, and mercy.

For those who sell themselves short by a hard nights' work.

All battered and beaten, bruised and mistaken

for shadows of themselves. 

 

For those with no way to say what needs saying,

to play without praying

to this game's mighty soirre.

For all of the above and everything, any  way.

For you, I write a little bit     down each day.