[Mister Saint]: 79.Poetry.Parade

A poem I wrote while considering the way society has worked for... ever, really. Just remember that in no place does more figurative m*sturbation occur than in the seat of power. ^^

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Parade

We step inside the one way doors
and hope to dance across the floor
But all the dancers fall in step
The status quo is soundly kept
The MC calls for happy hour
And all the dancers gather round,
save the precious ones who stand aside,
to make way for McCarthy's bride

And God so loved this bonded ball
that his own son he bound to fall
To save the dancers, all in line,
Whose moves suggest their feet are blind

Parade, lines across the boards
A pretty cardboard face
Parade, our mighty overlords
In front of empty space

Buzzwords spew between their lips
as rhythm fails to grace their hips,
the dancers cry their voices out,
to silence those who walk about
But soon their legs grow weary
as the music gently fades
When happy hour's ended
and it's time to go away

And God so loved this bonded ball
that his own son he bound to fall
To save the dancers, all in line,
Whose moves suggest their feet are blind

Parade, lines across the boards
A pretty cardboard face
Parade, our mighty overlords
In front of empty space

The time then calls for a change of pace
and the walkers take the dancers' place
They move in ways we've never seen
And joy is for the brand new scene
Parade the victors, young and strong,
and pray their reign goes on and on
Forget the ones who'd come and gone,
Just readjust, and life goes on

Parade the mistakes that they made,
ignore the roads that they had paved,
Brand new dancers take the floor,
and keep their eyes upon the door,
In time their legs will lose their might,
while swift they dance, and hard they fight,
But when their music fades away,
another troop shall take their place

(spoken)

In a parade there can never be a last car...
... when the whole thing goes in circles.

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Hope you like.