A rising tide lifts all boats But that only works if the damn thing floats Else you have a tidal wave And drown the people you’re trying to save And are we crushing the flower we walk upon Will we only know when it’s gone When it’s too late to turn back Fighting over what we lack Or will there be a new tomorrow Where we wake up from all the sorrow Into a domain of peace Where forgiveness is our just release And what part do I play Do I stand up for what I can’t say As it ushers in a new command Aren’t we too wise to fight over land?
Do you live in a makeshift home
A cardboard box you live in alone
And are there decorations on the wall
Or do you bother with all that at all
Coz I've watched lives burned down to dust
Watched the vagaries and the absent trust
As everything turned out naught
Like you're a fisherman and your net was caught
But I've also seen sunrise break up the day
Tell the night that it will be okay
And the fading of twilight come the dawn
Is like Easter when the winter is gone
And I've lived both sides of the conunderum
I been so sure that I left them wondering
If it's just a delusion I've held onto
But the truth is fire and it's burning you
And there are eaves that run with the power of rain
A summer solstice I wouldn't do again
To feel the pummeling water down
Like my feet are puddles in the air that drown
Out the noise of unimpeded consequence
People will tell you that you're due for rent
When all you've done is breathe in the air
And enjoy the facilities that are left there
So, what is the future likely to be
Will we bury the ocean under the sea
Will we poison the atmosphere and heat the air
Til the people in Africa know we don't care
Coz their land is arid and often dry
The rivers run cold and the children cry
Out for a piece of food to eat
While we make war under our own feet
And will I just be a paragon in the future looking back
I'm not setting myself up to be a life hack
I wanna make a difference and I'll make it now
If the Universe conspires with me somehow
To release the pain like I'm lancing a boil
So the robots do the work and the people toil
In sweatshops in Asia and all of our shoes
Coz less than the amount we use to pay our dues
The Poetry Book 