America the Cancerous
Oh, don’t get me wrong I love you. Its people inside you I don’t understand. 40 acres and a mule and all that jazz, that’s the stuff dreams are made of. Still waiting for it Blackman? The closest we’ll get to it, is a Spike Lee flick. The key is making it on your own, I know it’s rough, but it only gets rougher when you settle for the lip the politicians and so-call soothsayers put down. I have never heard of a country that is so intense on getting into every other countries business. America, listen to your people. Take care of your own first than go ahead and help someone else. Other countries take care of their sick, free healthcare. What, the greatest country in the world and we can’t do that? Oh, I forgot no money in finding the cure for the ailment, only treating it. Prolong his life until his insurance runs out then discard him in tomorrow’s trash. Dam, America the Cancerous. Just a thought that I have, oh don’t get me wrong I love you. Its people inside you I don’t understand.
Ballplayer gets 250 million for ten years, while teacher gets 40,000 a year. Same dam teacher that taught that ballplayer how to count his money. Anybody else see what’s wrong with this picture. Oh, don’t get me wrong I love you. Its people inside you I don’t understand. Dam, America the Cancerous. What are the young going for now a days? A Crack head mom would let them go for a couple of vials. Now, I guess it’s less, more like a song and a dance, why because I’m tired of taking care of them. Letting them raise themselves so they can be Cancerous in America. Oh, don’t get me wrong I love you. Its people inside I don’t understand.
But fair is fair and I have to give America credit, you have controlled the homeless situation. I don’t have to step over you while disembarking from the subway anymore. You moved them inside the tunnels, quite clever. Still have those eyesores in Newark when I travel on the Garden State though, guess you can’t ask for everything. Dam, America the Cancerous.
By
Michael A. Bostick