Painting:
Waiting for The Believers
by, Allan Bruce Zee

Melancholy melody that seems to draw away ones memories
Doesn’t do justice to the thoughts of stark real yesterdays
Tunes of modern times so superficial to the ancient words
Generation of new souls can’t bear the truths of heartaches

Perhaps prescribe psychedelic pills to them from the start
It wouldn’t help to look them deeper in the blank dead eyes
You see morals don’t exist to the mortals any more here
Teaching doesn’t include prayers or hopes of future eternity

So sit silent wise ones in old smelly rotten nursing homes
Keep all your knowledge to the grave set so plainly in front
Writing down all the ways to save ones soul will be banned
Schools only teach them electronic gibberish for robot children