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What is the point? We hide from our problems       and run from our fears. What have we accomplished       in so many years? Children still cry       and parents still scold. Loved ones lose homes       when businesses fold. Abuse and neglect       take their toll everyday, While floods of unborn babies       are buried away. Drugs are still smuggled,       and people still die. Everyone knows it,       but no one knows why. Doctors kill patients       (without breaking the law). Governments fight,       and nations fall. Psychics are preaching       with help from the stars. Millions of maniacs       gather in bars. Doors are kept locked       and bikes are in chains. Pollution brings fear       of acid rains. Young girls get pregnant       and mothers get mad: "It would have been different       had she lived with her dad." |
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Criminals brag       about jobs they have done, While innocent people       are forced to run. Poets and writers       make up their lists. Old men stand by       shaking their fists. We make up excuses       to cover our tracks, By telling white lies       we hide the facts. I wish I could say,       "I am better than most," But with all I have done       I have no room to boast. We all can point fingers       at who is to blame, The truth of the matter:       we're all the same. Death is a blessing       and life is a curse. As time goes on       it will only get worse. What we cannot change,       do we have to accept? The world says yes,       that is why Jesus wept. The point of life       comes down to this: We cannot rely       on hits we have missed. |
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All content Copyright Tammy Bowles 2000-2010 unless otherwise stated. |