The Problem With Society

The Problem with Society By Word.Smyth A mother grieving, warm tears streaming down her dark brown cheek no words to speak, no consolation, Her son lies bleeding at her feet another victim of the street, a victim of society, a blind machine designed to keep us confined to being less then what we should be, pushing the underclass back on the street, make a living or die trying grinding daily for a mad society's lies and never asking why we dying we buying into the lies, societies the bank and we got unlimited credit to the same organization payin more for war then education, we indebted the social creature, the beast that feeds on poverty, destroying us the more we try to fight, the more we realize, society is poisinous the mother grieving, asking why, the scene's replayed a thousand times the young man bleeding, see him die for a pocketfull of unfounded lies societies device to keep them down, keep them quiet, keep them dying they keep on lying we keep on buying it, they sellin us our own demise another needless death, another life lost to this social beast we see to "the street", the name we gave to the early grave made by society a dream they feed us, freedom from the bonds, but only bind us tighter denying us the right to the pursuit of life liberty and getting higher ;) as the young man lies there, i walk away, the sad scene unapproachable thinking to myself, the problem with society, it's too damn anti-sociable