Caricamento in corso...

Televised Heart


At times we all have selfish thoughts,
As we perpetuate our need,
And it seems today the pain of others,
Is the food on which we feed,
We’re inundated by the medias,
Force fed what we should believe,
Even though actions speak louder than words,
Is it ourselves that we deceive,
For every event there must be blame,
But when did it change to that,
Innocent until proven guilty,
Could a mushroom grow in that crap,
An attempt to protect the masses,
Then why wait for the applause,
Do it because it needs doing,
If justice is your cause.
Each of us adds our little piece,
Yet none of us seem to hear,
That all our morbid interest,
Is driven by our own fears,
Help is giving assistance,
Not expecting some sort of return,
And by giving in to the propaganda,
Our ignorance is all we earn.
Ratings don’t make life worth living,
There are more important things living inside,
Maybe then that plastic face,
Won’t be what you use to hide,
All of us have our demons,
And we all have things we need,
But why is there so much pleasure,
In watching others bleed.
The sun rises in the morning,
And it sets each and every night,
As some things are made in darkness,
With no acceptance from the light,
It’s not just personal preference,
If you’re taught how to think and feel,
If we only see one side,
How do w know what’s real.
Granted it’s not a perfect world,
Because no such thing exists,
But all the answers we seem to find,
Are the things we most resist,
All the things we see and hear,
Pale to what’s inside,
As all our answers each day live,
In the love we seem to hide.

Altre opere di Lance Nathan Conrad...