We lost the interest before we began
Moving fixed posters on the thick walls
Level-headed distinguished man
Digging hard and working all
Sight beheld in the palm of worn hand
Many created problems we’ve called
We never tried to make a plan
Sedentary thoughts prove scrawled
From Forefather’s will in our acts we’ve strayed
Many against the conservative man
Labels aren’t of working clay
Written books in stern pale hand
Lest knowledge gone, saves the old way
Covered maps in possessive words to understand
Ponderings of the lighted day
Proven by those that they can stand
Mixed pot of melting to tell
Ignorant jump so high for frail joy
The inner workings of this great hell
Innocent lost those few trained boys
White colors cast the witch’s spell
Conjured up in those open young and coy
That symbolic dust holds to the clouds well
Annoyance of such fickle vetted choice
Locked into strict box orthodox-stayed course
The American Dream’s been broken and forced.
