Misguided
By james a. galgano
Who would have known when your bird has flown
Into the muck and mire beyond the gulf of despair
While we save all our shavings and cut hair
To end some endless spill for profit’s sake
Why are we always here, prisoners of heart break
Adrift upon un-chartered sea longing eternally
For some divine intervention though it never comes
While we are held captive to the numbered days
Of some once proud nation’s now setting sun
Found within the despoiled feathers of innocents
Longing to forever fly into forever or whenever
The urge arises, so why are we filled with this woe
Of unrepentant surprises built upon some nefarious economy
Longing to measure our losses upon the cash register
Unclearly defined as some irresolution on oil soaked sea
In search of a savior that never was or will never be
Except in the verse of idealistic prose and poetry
Within the fears and frustration of victimized species
Whose only plight was to be caught with the economy
Of some corporate calculation so impolite
Forgiving their calculations as if upon misguiding light
