The part of life that confuses me the most


By Tim S Poma

There is so much confusion in the air today,
Confusion coming out of everything we hear or say.
Making this reality seem so make believe,
And you would not believe the things I have heard and seen.
There’s troubled times for the bright, bright minds.
Which will get left behind, if we don’t give them the time,
To confront the confusion that confounds there minds,
All bund up and tied with red tape and twine.

The release to the confusion can it be found?
Before all the loving souls they all drown,
In a sea of emotion that doesn’t care?
As people watching there TVs blindly stare,
At the artificial intelligence, we call a newscaster
Making me go crazy every time I see there reports like a natural disaster.
I’m still looking out the window for a little respect
And then I see him hanging from a tree with a rope around his neck
For the job of the media is to make it seam imposable
That we could straighten this mess out they tell us would be improbable.
There job they do well as we scratch our heads and say what the hell?
But we can overcome the confusion coming from this well,
If we all rise together and let our love swell.
For the confusion I see is the smoking gun
Which fill the room up so thickly I can’t seem to see anyone,
But once I opened the door the smoke it cleared,
And ill I could see was all of us with a smile, grinning ear to ear.

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