While travelling down the streets walked by many men before me,
It is clear that things have not been sacred ever since Adam met Eve.
How did an apple change our lives forever?
Was it red or green?
Was it as precious as ones name?
Or as precious as those who seek fame?
How could evil be a symbol?
Isn’t evil a seed planted from birth?
Or a serpent that at times slithers through all of our veins?
When was it that a saint was celebrated to a point when one faints?
Did St. Patrick want us to spin a wheel?
And intoxicate our minds until we can no longer feel?
Isn’t green a symbol of riches?
Last I checked we all end up in ditches.
When did all these intellectuals walk in the room?
They use their words just as a broom,
Why do they sweep their dust in mind?
When all that I see are lines that are blind.
When did a word contain so many meanings?
While a plain picture destroys countless feelings.
What is right and what is wrong, with to flying birds that whisper their song?
When did the style of my pants begin to matter?
Perhaps when the media began to structure one’s manner.
When did a poem contain so many meanings?
While one judges what no one is seeing.
When did a man begin to sit by a corner?
While all those around him add to disorder.
How did it happen that one gave all that they had?
And by the end of their life, had finished so sad.