Discarded pavers, cobbles city street, used as foundation humble castle keep. Simple building blocks, discarded refuse, three bedroom, one bath family produced. Right place at right time? You can bet your ass. Future created? Reach exceeded grasp. On a Long Island halfway to Montauk, with sweat equity these Mics walked the walk.
This humble abode built by those with hope who knew must produce, vision not myope. Children are given what need to survive, as become adults own fate learn to drive. Something for nothing? Ponzi Scheme of life? Social ascension is two-sided knife. Excellent labor, a strong work ethic? Need to be valued, axiomatic.
Sixties are over, Age Aquarius? Chasm grows wider tween the rich and us.
Disparage wealthy while coveting cash? Demented model of hopeless teeth gnash. Sweat’s most enduring of all equities, creation’s binding sense of property. What is the value of diamonds in dust? To cast off masters in work we must trust.
The field is canted, for some vertical, but begging for alms is thinking fuddled. “Come revolution!” Most vapid mantra, slash and burn farming won’t help rise above. Woebegone masses seek fairy-tale scene where every wish is provided by dream. Give us all ribbons? Swear we’re all the best? Take your blathering and give it a rest.
It’s unfair to ask someone to labor with shackles and chains so let’s help procure, society where all have a chance to earn daily bread, take part in life’s dance. And what is value of items unearned? The means to succeed is what we must learn. Systemic changes, a revolution, all see it coming, come pen-stroke or gun?
“If I am in need then you must provide,” is absurdity and a vicious lie. What we’re deserving, the thing we’re all owed, not gratuity, clear path to crossroad. The intersection of can’t or just won’t, of being shackled, of doing or don’t. One Universal, the Ultimate Right, ain’t found in handouts it’s path cleared to heights.
Weight of oppression, yoke of tyranny, I ain’t denying but freedom ain’t free. Revamp the system, make field bubble naught, but bread, circuses? What’s history taught? Horrid displacements are heading our way and automation will soon rule the day. All need a purpose, to strive for a goal, standing with hand out will quickly grow old.
A revolution’s revolt that succeeds, trail by ordeal’s got us on our knees. Hippocratic Oath hypocritical if a solution ain’t nothing but bull. Discarded pavers, cobbles city street, used as foundation humble castle keep. Simple building blocks, discarded refuse, three bedroom, one bath family produced.