Wild Wooly World


In this crazy world  we live in,

where life is a light  flashing wan;

where people will rush;

where a will is still hushed;

bewitched, befuddled,  be gone;


in a reckless world  such as this is,

where countless the numbers  demand;

where all is at stake  and nothing can wait,

no one shares, no one cares,  no one can.


A mother holds on to her children,

the father will swallow his pride;

and all in all, it’s a wilderness call,

where everything’s hidden inside.


In a wild wooly world  which this is,

where work and toil doesn’t rest,

all that is lost  dissipates at a cost,

in the fight   for the right   to just live.


A billion more voices   are still making choices,

where no one knows how, why,  or when.


In the reckless nonsense,   complaisance;

alive where it thrives as is.

A freedom at cost,   is where everyone just

gives and lets live   where they must.


Where the mind holds on to a difference,

but the real will bear no such thing,

the most common truth  is the variance of proof,

while the world spins along on a string.


In the wild wooly West that once was,

where cow-tunes were once sung as songs,

and strife was all sung,   both the poltroon and wrong,

but still it was life all along.




©2013,Marvin Loyd Welborn

Revised 12 June 2013

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