|The Magic's in the Growing Lights|
Feather Glows in the Flowing Night
Echoes of the Subliminal Human Life
The Peacock City is Alive
The Dilemma of the RichYou walk down the street,The Dilemma of the Rich by kirana44
Pretty young blonde girl,
With your (fake) fur-lined bomber jacket
And your headphones in, iPod in pocket,
The lyrical sounds blocking out things that you don't want to hear.
You can only just make out the sound
Of the man you've just ignored,
The one in the wheelchair,
The stump of his missing leg propped up,
The Big Issue held in his outstretched hand.
Help the homeless who want to help themselves, he says,
But you, oh kind and giving young lady,
Just rush on by, your mother's words ringing in your head:
It's not your money to give out, Darling,
I know you mean well, but you can't give out what's not truly yours.
So you obey your mother, because, well,
What else can you do?
You console yourself with chocolate and music,
Hating that you are blind
But sensitive to what you cannot see.