RMC

The day is full of classless past
ghouls that went to school that trespass.
Take the invention of the wheel fast
put on the pedal a foot of lead last.

Sweep the streets in brisk
cold air that against skin crisp
is nothing more than mist
you can check of your list.

You’ve seen it before at core
principles I am a Christian man.
The more I try I cry implore
I do of those who might can.

I feel resistant to my place
and the air is rancid in my face
I get the can of stinging mace
that brings the tears to trace.

I need the steed of might to fight
all with my creed the failing light.
I take what’s wrong and what’s right,
affix a fix to fix all I might.

Free your mind and let loose
of the burdens forget the noose
I tell myself as I tell myself of Mother Goose,
fiction is better than the truth.