All around me are familiar faces
Worn out places, worn out faces
– Gary Jules
JULY
Now is July…
The billfold is gone.
No bird in the sky,
No work can done.
Sad world, bad world,
Too many flags unfurled
Friends deceased…
Rents increased…
Yet the music sounds,
Though his performance wanes.
Corporations make grounds,
Individuals take pains.
Bad world, mad world,
Truth cocktailed, swirled.
A mob overtly opportunistic,
Non bon mot, non linguistic.
Now is July…
Soon to be winter.
Get ready to fly,
From here to hinter.
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