Men Live In Playpens

Today's world is a mere playpen for men,
Whom I'll refer to as just little boys,
Ranting and raving over whose the best,
And only content when playing with their toys.

In this playpen they form their own little groups,
Then decide on some guidelines and rules,
Milking billions from those living outside the pen,
To begin spending like maniacal fools.

After succeeding in laying to waste much of earth,
These little boys now set their site toward the skies,
Hell bent and determined to leave us behind,
Closing their ears to the sounds of our cries.

They've simply given up on the home that God built,
And have shrugged their shoulders at what they've ruined,
Instead having focused on the galaxies,
Applauding their intelligence by putting men on the moon!

Look closely at the name of this pen where they dwell,
You'll see the word Government written with blood,
And amongst them are lacking in knowledge,
Of important words like compassion and love.

They travel the country spreading lies and deceit,
With promises of honey and prosperity for all,
But once they're elected and are sitting on high,
They behave like children and grow deaf to our call!

If man would direct their efforts to the suffering on earth,
No time would they find for child's play,
Is their not a playpen on the face of this earth,
Where governments will do what they say!?

~valentyne~ ©

No Man's Land
Bob Seger