8

Low murmur of a generation
Trying not to be forgot
Out and about are political minions
And other of Satan’s worshipers
Small family units laugh and play
Unaware of the shadowy players among them
Passed by a parade of hope and confusion
Dead leaves lay like bodies from a war
Covering the land
As the masses choose to ignore
Clock out and take your lunch break
Uniforms worn by all
Some dictated, some chosen
Tiny learners need a leash
For the path is dirty
For now, the day only passes into grey