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Shout Sorry      

 
Shout sorry
For the dreaming children
Soon needing to know why
They follow and swallow false stars
 
Shout sorry for the dawning youngsters
Yearning in a curdling curriculum
Force-fed by factory ‘Celebs’
 
Feel sorry for the much too young mothers
Still training in specialist feelings.
Feel sorry for the machismo males
Monkeying and cornered
In the square days of mankind.
 
Shout sorry for the vanity of addiction
Cranking the glamour of pace
Stashed in a mortuary of boardrooms
Nestling in gift-wrapped reports.
 
Shout sorry for the prosthetic members
Lobbying limp injections of vision
Shifting grim pills of a bitter progress.
 
Shout sorry for the funding of amnesia
So easy with profit in mind.
Shout sorry for fucking all creatures
And minding to justify why.
 
Feel sorry for the daily detergents
Bleaching the screens of debate
Washing the cells on the sofas
Aborting the reality of individual feeling.
 
Feel sorry for the footstep followers
Believing the sales and the smiles
Reaching for sweet trust freely
Wallowing in overdrawn mistakes.
 
 
 
Shout sorry for the political road works
Spanning our time and our tracks
Spaced out with eyes guiding blindly
Spinning us daily in grid locking circles.
 
Shout sorry for the bloody imbalance
Congealed in a mouldy thatched crux
Feeding the high tackle trend set
Belting below the line.
 
Feel sorry for the wilderness children
Bursting with floods in their eyes
Swollen with nothing to swallow
Dying on camera for you.
 
Feel sorry for the muddy-faced mothers
Hung out and dripping dry
Bearing the unsalted slave child
Starving in seasons of grief.
 
Feel sorry for the laughable lambs
Loving a satirical slaughter
Lead by bargaining shepherds
Overseen by crooks
Over killed by machines.
 
Shout sorry for the stunting of goodness
By the learned of eloquent deceit
Throttling the Art of fair living
Driving the bargaining word.
 
Shout down the expensive game masters
Ruling the bending inside
Calling on profits of profit
Designing the wrong world right now
 
Shout down the secret successors
Spawning in affluent streams
Clowning down tiers with their ladders
Wing clipped and waiting to rise.
 
 
 
Shout down the top gun dog boys
Grooming with early bird girls
Curled up in a counterfeit existence
Counting down the cold meet of reality.
 
So go enlighten the dawning youngsters
Swinging on tales of romance
Be wise to the dreaming children
Glowing in a darkening age
Act now to cool down false credit
Save social grace by good seed
Stop sending love to the corner
Start sowing profit in deed.
 
 
Neil Clarke
 
 

 

 

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