It's a crisis
The will of the people is low
The swing of the hammer, the axe and the pick, weak
The wonder and glory of our times must be realized
Though there is no sweat on the brow
No quality reflection
The people and their entertainers are draining themselves
with triviality and conjecture
The statues of yesterday grow moss
And triumphs are only truly comprehended by old fashioned minds
Where is the morning horn to hasten the day
awaken the lazy and set them to work
Why have we spent so much time on fighting boredom
Instead of standing and purely fighting for our own short meager life
It's a crisis when the level of concern is never met with action
and the level of concern is never raised for in apathy they wallow
and come out odoriferous with the stench of complacency
and such high levels of predictability
devoid of creativity
For the people expect everything from their government
and nothing from themselves
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