Walking Behind Parochial School Brats

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Walking behind parochial school brats
Outward appearances nice & neat
Discarded to their own system
Twisted hearts with a distorted beat
You can’t abandon a soul
& expect righteousness to supervise
You hope for marching citizens
But you end up with the Lord of the Flies

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His Disturbed View Of The American Dream

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His disturbed view of the American dream
Maybe he went & got tattooed one too many times
The coffee & cigarettes unfold to clear his path
Envisioned between the wondrous filth & grime
Dredged details with twists & turns of another
Hazed morning blurs direction to the local Starbucks
Elegant patrons stepping out from higher society
Rubbing shoulders with commons down on their luck
Stilettos clacking upon the tile with another escape
Former dive bar angels way past their prime
Stalking & eavesdropping into a life he’ll never know
Maybe he went to that well one too many times

Gnomes of Oracle

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Many in the world will deny their existence
You will not find them in books which are historical
But hidden beneath the shrubs and trees
You might find the ‘Gnomes of Oracle’
They are kind little creatures
They go about their business, never doing any harm
Our small friends are rather shy
But that’s part of their charm
A vast system of caves dug deep into the earth
Winding tunnels descend down and begin to twist
In a central chamber beneath all that is known
Only a certain few are allowed, this they insist
Behind all else in the caverns below
The gnomes guard an old wooden box containing a treasure
Diamonds and gold cannot shine as bright as what’s inside
What the box holds is on what your life will be measured
Carved into the side of the box is a label, it simply reads ‘LOVE’
With nothing more valuable, nothing greater can be found
Once you have this, you need nothing else
This treasure is rare, but can be created from everything around