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Misery

If love is history,
And life, not a mystery,
If truth, is a lie,
And poetry the bane of youth...

What are we, to do?
Have we got the grit to get us through,
The gates of our heaven?

If religion is more than addiction,
And music, an affliction,
And life is a confession,
And inspiration a possession,

I never cried a tear for you,
I never used a can of mace,
The warriors they're like poison,
I guess Auschwitz took their place,
Dove, come on down,
Wake up before we drown.

Violence has become a religion,
Where within us we get stuck,
I never did feel groovie,
I never felt like a crook.
Dove, come on down,
Wake up before we drown.

Don't know if I can keep on,
Don't know if I'm that wrong,
Don't know if I will already be gone,
See the stars go crashing,
And my Light come on.
Then there will be no tomorrow,
Then there will be no one to blame,
And though I know it's a lie,
I know I've got to leave.

We'll think that we are cool,
It's not the bomb that gets us through,
The gates of our heaven.
Our heaven, our heaven,

Then there will be no tomorrow,
Then there will be no one to blame,
Then there will be no need for sorrow,
Then there will be no one to maim.
April 2012

poem by David Andre' Klopper
Added by Poetry Lover
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