Both Sides

I walk the halls, wanting the sadness
Willing my despondence to linger
My fingers trace the painted drywall
And stop, of all things, on the mirror
My eyes refocus on this hollow shell of a woman
I am disheveled, I am alone.
What is it about this life that makes you decide?
Mere ambiguity has no place, only time
The face in the mirror is indeed mine
But the voice she uses, a mask
And her lone task is to make it through one more day
Without her mask slipping, giving herself away
She can trace the creases that the mask has made
Battle scars from the wounds she'll never let fade
Because to do so would require exposure
And she's already spent years as an unwilling soldier
Her mother told her don't let nothing or nobody make
you get older
Cause it's soon enough that your ashes get colder
So why do I let the mask put lines on my face?
To perpetuate the lie that life is nothing but great?
What a sad state of affairs
Closed doors, no one's there
Locked up, no one's aware
Now my spirit has fallen into disrepair
Too scared to admit the truth to anyone
They say we're living in a new millenium
So what am I running from?
I'm fleeing from the goddamn mirror
Afraid what I'll see if it looked a bit clearer.

American Dream

I write to escape the pain
Though I'm supposed to be living in the game,
I'm drowning in it all the same
And since I got a good job that's payin
I feel ashamed
I'm supposed to be middle class, higher ranking
Instead, I'm fallin behind on my banking
Havin to get on a payment plan for any bill
higher than a Franklin.
The economy, they tell us, is tankin'
And while I sit here ranklin', another bill comes
due and another two are late
It's past the date for a national conversation on
class that doesn't involve hate
Your neighbors drive Cadillacs, but inside, they wait
For payday to come three days away
They say everything's OK, while the Visa bill stays
at nine thousand, ten thousand dollars
Never answer the phone, the bank's the caller
And your house is the last shred of hope you have that
links you to the fictionalized dream world they call
"middle class."
It ain't the haves and the have-nots
It's the "think they haves" and "don't gots"
Nobody's poor as long as we can still go to the store
and get a bit more so our kids' tummies
are not sore,
What are we kidding ourselves for?
So we smoke and we drink so we don't have to think
about how close we are to the brink
And we sink further, believe the conservative furor
that we could only make it if we pull ourselves up by the straps
of our boots.
That's uncouth, and they're playing us fast and loose
Here's the truth: our wages aren't enough
To get us through the month without having to sell some stuff
And my life isn't supposed to be that tough!
Put off paying for the air and heat comin out my vents
A dollar bill found on the street could be heaven sent.
Sometimes I can't take it.
Even Clark Kent had to be Superman just to make it.

Too Hippie 4 U

I eat organically.
When I tell that to people, they look at me
Like a hippie, a yuppie,
a treehugger, a "green."
And all these labels are supposed to be mean
But I wear them proudly
And I'll say it loudly
I eat organically.
You go to Aldi so you can buy food for cheap
But remember that you are what you eat
So don't wonder why your kids are obese.
Buy em fruits and veggies every week
That are grown at a farm near you
Or at least without using much fuel
Or grown without getting sprayed by chemicals and pesticides
When you eat, they enter your body, cause your cells to die
It's not theoretical, these so-called incredible edibles
Are marketed and sold like it's all copacetical
But we should know better than to fall for these fakes
They're slicing up cows so fast they're getting
feces in the steaks
It's make it or break, the agribusiness gettin
fat off the false profits
The false prophets say, "eat up"
Their disgusting, cheaply-made stuff.