MarsMan Poetry (5)

Promises, promises, all you give are promises.
Issuing such sweet, alluring dirty lies,
Building up my hopes for a better tomorrow.
That will only lead to great sorrow.

Constantly telling me how you will make things better,
How you are such a righteous, unstanding go getter.
Tell me again how much richer, wiser and healthier I will be,
If only to your secret plans I will unconditionally agree.

You instruct me to follow you blindly about,
Never to questions or show any doubt,
Your endless devious drivel gets repeat every day
Telling me never to wander from your path or to stray.

You shout from the roof tops, and whisper in my ear.
That I should blame this one or that one for all that I fear.
You take from my pocket with such stealth.
To ensure I can' have wealth.

You grip my soul, my very being in your hand,
To squeeze out my essence, every last strand.
You wish me to crawl and beg at your feet,
Whilst you tell me one more great myth or deceipt.

Is breaking my spirit your ultimate goal?
Slowly draining the dignity from my very soul?
I am to become your obediant slave?
For the rest of my life until the grave?

Should I be grateful for the few scraps you distainly give?
Is this the way I am now meant to live?
Crushed and destoyed by your cruel lies.
Of a the better life, of endless blue summer skies.

Is this bitter tale about a spitefull love?
Is it a divine cruel beauty that I dare speak ill of?
A siren singly sweetly, luring me to my doom?
What person or thing could cause such dire gloom?

It is not of just one person these lines do speak,
They instead tell of the ignorance and arrogance of a constant sneak.
That orders me to give up every last cent.
It Is My cruel lying Government!

The doubts of worth reach down deep inside,
The knife to twist and slide,
Your soul it darkness and clouds,
Veiling with it's insidious shroud,
Turns your mind to thoughts of longing,
Dreams of perhaps one day belonging,
Your cries for help are muted and muffled,
The pain is caged and bottled,
Hope turns to despair then back to hope,
How then to try and cope?
You fill your time with chores,
all the while longing to adore.
There must be one of the masses,
Who i can give my tender kisses,
Just one for me is all I ask,
Is that too much a ridiculous task?
But no, I see only a void,
An empty life, a heart slowly destroyed.
It is a curse to to be so haunted,
the ghosts of want have me outwitted.
So slowly I sink into my bed,
knowing that yet again they will fill my head.
The dreams of what could, what should be,
but...........once again I will wake up lonely.

Promises, promises, all you give are promises.
Building up my fragile confidence.
Issuing such sweet, alluring dirty lies,
Are you a vicious demon in disguise.

Constantly telling me how you will make things better,
How you are such a righteous, upstanding go getter.
Tell me again how much richer, wiser and healthier I will be,
If only to your secret plans I will unconditionally agree.

You instruct me to follow you blindly about,
Never to questions or show any doubt,
Your endless devious drivel gets repeat every day
Telling me never to wander from your path or to stray.

You shout from the roof tops, and whisper in my ear.
That I should blame this one or that one for all that I fear.
You take from my pocket, by enacting new laws,
All to give to another dubious less deserving cause.

You grip my soul, my very being in your hand,
To squeeze out my essence, every last strand.
You wish me to crawl and beg at your feet,
Whilst you tell me one more great myth or deceipt.

Is breaking my spirit your ultimate goal?
Slowly draining the dignity from my very soul?
I am to become your obedient slave?
For the rest of my life until the grave?

Should I be grateful for the few scraps you distainly give?
Is this the way I am now meant to live?
Crushed and destroyed by your cruel lies.
Of a the better life, of endless blue summer skies.

Is this bitter tale about a spiteful love?
Is it a divine cruel beauty that I dare speak ill of?
A siren singly sweetly, luring me to my doom?
What person or thing could cause such dire gloom?

It is not of just one person these lines do speak,
They instead tell of the ignorance and arrogance of a powerful sneak.
That orders me to give up every last cent.

It Is My cruel lying Government!

Nursery Rhymes for the modern age.

Baa Baa dumb sheep.
Are you really such fools?
Yes sir, yes sir, the taxes you can pull.
But none from the bankers, or those who reign,
Everything must be taken from the many poor that live down the lane.

Jack and Jill went up the hill to build a lovely dormer
The economy fell down and broke the town
And employment came tumbling after.
Before up got Jack, his home the banks got 
As fast as they could caper
The politicians were in bed with the banking head,
All election promises had just been on paper.

Hey diddle diddle, the politicians were on the fiddle,
The bankers jumped over the moon.
The property developer laughed to see such fun
As the Government ran off with your silver spoon!

The Grand old Duke of York he had ten thousand homes
He built them on the top of the hill
And built them all with loans.
Before they were even up, he put the prices went up.
And when the economy went down, the prices went down
And when the homes were only halfway up
For purposes of the property tax they were up not down.

Baa Baa Dumb Sheep (and other such rhymes)
Author: MarsMan
Nursery Rhymes for the modern age.

Baa Baa dumb sheep.
Are you really such fools?
Yes sir, yes sir, the taxes you can pull.
But none from the bankers, or those who reign,
Everything must be taken from the many poor that live down the lane.

Jack and Jill went up the hill to build a lovely dormer
The economy fell down and broke the town
And employment came tumbling after.
Before up got Jack, his home the banks got
As fast as they could caper
The politicians were in bed with the banking head,
All election promises had just been on paper.

Hey diddle diddle, the politicians were on the fiddle,
The bankers jumped over the moon.
The property developer laughed to see such fun
As the Government ran off with your silver spoon!

The Grand old fool from Cork had ten thousand homes
He built them on the top of the hill
And built them all with loans.
Before they were even up, he put prices went up.
And when the economy went down, prices went down
And when the homes were only halfway up
For purposes of the property tax they were up not down.