Rhyme and Punishment

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Everything’s already been said

Intellectual argument is dead

I don’t have rhyme

To do this crime

Of flip-flop in my head.

 

A heartless soul charge

Of weapons small and large

I don’t have rhyme

To do this crime

Of thinking gone litharge

 

A country torn in two

Bereft of me and you

I don’t have rhyme

To do this crime

Of endless hullabaloo

 

But a story told anew?

Of what is common and true

I do have time

To sing this rhyme

With hope to pull us through

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