Pipe Dreams (Poem)

The wars of the world never heal
Never die

Hail to the throne
Glory to the kill

The games of the thrones never save
Only lie

Beckon to the call
Buy your wasted time

Dreams
Of the famous
And the riches
And the pride
Of the mansions
And the pensions
Picket fences
Little dogs

Slaves to your heartache
There’s no sight to your aim

Pipe dreams in the waters
bring new life to your blame

High off the horizon
Nothing, no-one slow you down

There’s no reason
Rhyme or wisdom
That will bring you to the ground

Treading on the lowly
Silence of the lambs

Masquerading liberty
Free to play your hand

But your hand is in the fryer
Like a frog in a pot

First it simmers
Then it boils
Then turns mince into slop

Pipe dreams in the waters
Nightmares falling down

Lifestyles
Of the riches
And the famous
And the proud