Social Norms - Gord - Aspoet


2017-01-27 12:00 am
The man who no longer revolves, dies forever,
And likely has not an iron in hand.
The rest who fail and die inside,
May just simply live again, 
Never despondent with desires availed.

The man who lives forever,
Will likely has his own gold,
Iron is for tamed men who grow old,
Only eventually to desire again,
Living to a disappointment,
Skeletons cannot draw the river,
Not like when they were avoidant.

The young men and the boys,
They know little of that facts,
Floating through existences,
They decide to decide kings later,
Their desire is to act now.

Electors hired,
They enact cowards,
Politicians raised powerful,
Their children decide values.
Perhaps our good times could be spent apart,
Instead of lying and backstabbing one another.