A Tear To Live For

Bosses coming down on you,

pretending they are friends.

Cleaning up behind them,

when they are actually fiends.

Using the eternal glimpse of mankind,

we scream inside our lungs.

Not knowing whats beneath the earths rine,

we cannot spit it off our tongues.

Deadly sins they say are culprates,

hope is still as hard to find.

Lives are tried for judgement,

most fail to pass the charts.

Above the death of beings of great,

you stand among them all.

But only for a moment of want,

there is no match for the dead one and all.

Eric Clark

aka

Funkjunkie

*Eric, thanks for letting us put your poem on our site*

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