Sun, oh son

IMG_0005Heaven first then the work!
Why, spouting out from a child’s mouth,
it is pure pity!
One would know no better.

How, yet should a grown man
Spout the same scornful message
He applauds himself with the thought
and to bright comes the tellie
Files tossed to the side under his glass
aged whisky.

Age brings no work
work brings no age
only time brings age
only hard work
makes the time worth it.

So, sir, do not drain that glass.
Turn off your damned idiot box
reroute that life
show that child that only work
brings those riches

Show that child!
No riches bring happiness
but that soulful hobby job
remember? That child?
So sure of what was right.

Why! Your father too
watched that fine light grow bigger
until the moon went crooked.
Learn from his mistakes son.

Open those files.
Free your mind,
for in the morning a new
and you just might find
that heaven you were once,
Always looking for.

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