The First Epic

How can I write about death at 24?
Yes, my soul is torn and sore,
But I’m not ready to go beyond the floor.
I haven’t been published,
Didn’t get a chance to be rich and snobbish.
God knows I can’t be stuck-up,
After all of the ever screwed up
Things I’ve seen, so shut up
While our government is fucked up,
Taking five hours to cross the ocean,
And five days to get to New Orleans,
Don’t let me start on FEMA’s dilemma,
And yet, they’re part of Homeland Security,
Who somehow falls short of the nation’s retina,
Who failed us again after 9/11.
How many people need to cross into heaven,
Before something is done to these hypocritics,
Who take money from homeless to give to lunatics
To fund building a bridge in Alaska.
The last guy to need a bridge is Santa.
Trailer parks losing battles to strip malls.
Somebody give Congress some Halls,
So they can speak on this and the war,
So we can hear the same bullshit we’ve heard before,
People are blinded by the price of oil,
And don’t see corruption on American soil.
As the taxes get “lower,” so the rich get richer,
The poor get poorer, it’s no clearer,
How they get Americans in poverty in quicker.
All this shit, just, makes me sicker,
As Osama bin Laden spreads his power
For his religion to build bombs stronger,
Spreading Al-Queida networks farther,
And the world ignores the U.N.
How can we, as America, ascend
When racism hasn’t come to an end,
When we can’t help hurricane victims out,
When we can tell what the president is lying about,
And, yet, I feel I’m the only one to see it,
Because there’s no real end to the following shit
To come out of, Washington, D.C., our capital.
I can hear it. He’s been irrational.
No, I think whoever says that isn’t rational.
Bush supporters will try to make it personal.
They’ll think of a phrase worth rehearsing,
And they’ll repeat it on all the shows in the morning.
We’ll eat it up and watch the lie spreading,
Few people, like me, complain but act on nothing.
In all, we improve convenience a minute at a time,
Fast food, fast cars, pay at the pump with no line,
More bars, faster dial-up connection, precooked,
Pre used, pre shrunk, prerecorded, and overlooked
Is every right we’ve ever had stolen by a crooked
Man sitting at the highest seat that he took
By stealing an election on the saddest election day,
And there’s nothing they can try to say
To change my mind about election in 2000,
While we’re conned into buying Evian,
When there’s water at the house coming out of the faucet,
Maybe my mind needs to be on reset.
So how can I write about death at 24?
I didn’t, but I do believe there’s more
To this corruption that I need to explore,
Before I go on into the afterlife.
I, just, wish, to be granted time, kids, and a wife,
A trouble free year without the use of strife.