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The Shortcuts Route For Life Wants YOU To Help Yourself - So You Can Help Others

As I sit enjoying porridge
seeking words that rhyme with orange
thinking also of such a match for purple
laughter bubbles in peal and burbles

For we come upon a word
for which there is no rhyme,
silver is the culprit here; it takes up so much time.
The girl struggled so to rhyme with silver
she tried too hard, and you bet it killed her.

So let that be a lesson learned, as the burnished education turns,
for all we see and all we know, for all we dream and never show,
desire drives the blessed of burden, beasting best sported alone.
In the heights of time and glory, in the fields of aborning glory
In the stadia of the fruitful mind, stand tiny steps that alter time.

Each and so apportioned thus, the smile and the giver granted shares and plus,
to each the winded trail appears in tattered shreds of laughter's tears.
All you say is inside out, that the opposite is true there has never been doubt.
On your sleeve it wears too loud, in simple smiles of kindness find,
that all you sought and seek today, thrive inside all along the way.

The more you look to see what's there,
the more you'll receive when you get your share.
The more you pull to own, the more you grab to hold,
the less you count upon your floors,
when and if you have the luck to find that you've grown old.

Of all the water you test or taste, dipping in with tongue or toe,
Home is the one place, in all the world,
where they have to take you back.
So long since I knew what a home really is,
though many have tried so hard,
I lived to see your age, my dear, you can but hope you live to see mine.

Your actions speak more, and louder, too;
fulfill the promise we once thought of you.
Commit to the drama Life bought for you.

Gird your loins, gather your skirts,
there's work to do, it must not be shirked.
the silence calls out, the people are hungry,
the train's at the station, waiting for lumber.
The oil and the gas have gone by the wayside,
Life's not meant to be a free hayride. Workers unite!
Pick up your tools, there's work to be done,
the day has arrived where it touches each one.
To each their own task, beneath public mask,
with all that you've got, all a nation can ask.

Impregnably not, disdainfully hot,
each of you has your place.
The goal is no less than freedom defined,
please help save the human race.

Where money once ran down the hill as it should,
it now flows straight up by the will of but few.
Stand up and shout out your voice for us all,
let your name be recorded in Freedom Hall,
as a child who stood up for Mom and Dad,
or a parent who cared that their kids have been had.

Don't let this day pass in silence again,
as you've watch them get rich again and again.
They care not if you, or your children shall live,
to themselves goes the wealth to whom they give.
It's the bling and chah-ching that ring their bliss,
charity's coffers hardly lost in their midst

Now the sun and the trees do their job in the places
where gas and oil trailed their bloodiest traces
Your duty, your knowledge, your power,
create strength, the ultimate tower;
that which outlasts
the most boorish of souls,
like the arrogant Nazi,
that tourist in Rome.
This is your time,
This is your turn;
choose to live life,
or you can learn to burn.