SLAM!

Retard Child
by Rooster Roo


I close my eyes and sigh aloud and see music
prance, keeping time as butterflies dance in my mind.
Life is so hard yet inside I find a joyful
heart beating to the rhythm of timeless classic
tunes of strings, winds and percussion, rejoicing kind
human qualities that glees me oh so delightful.

In the world about me I must face extrinsic
evidence hoax devise by evil folks entwined
with prejudicial juries passing disdainful
judgements on a child of tender years: intrinsic
Iniquity is this intend to pedagogically bind.
The truth of my education is truly awful.
Alas it is not my spirit that is damned to die.

With my eyes closed I am engulfed by the music.
Soft as the velvet nighi's stars, as though, they were signed
by God’s hand as the angels stood by like resourceful
agents of the higher plan, just waiting and watching the basic
development of the soul of the son of man just as designed
by the greatest mind with the intend to flush out the dreadful.

In the world about me the bombastic preaches jurassic
sins such as 'do to others before others do you:' it’s truly the blind
Leading the blind into the emptiness as the proud deceitful
sit high upon their worldly benches committing neoclassic
crimes against God in the newest ways with their maligned
tongues that murder the truth about a child’s mind like dreadful
reprieved that irritates the living with a gluttonous evil eye.

I close my eyes and sigh aloud and see music
prance, keeping time as butterflies dance in my mind.
Life is so hard yet inside I find a joyful
heart beating to the rhythm of timeless classic
tunes of strings, winds and percussion rejoicing kind
human qualities that glees me oh so delightful

Why should I give allowance to the monophasic
life forms with no vigour in their souls to undermine
my happiness and rob me of my humble and blissful
soul, as if this short life really as any meaning in basic
spirituality other than being a small bite into a lemon rind?
The truth of my elementary education is truly awful.
Alas it is not my soul that is doomed to die.

With my young eyes closed I am engulfed by the music
smooth as the velvet night’s stars, as though, they were signed
by St. Cecilia’s hand as God stood by like a resourceful
poet with a superior plan just waiting and watching the basic
development of the soul of a child, a son of man, just as He designed.
He with the greatest mind and the intend to purge out the distasteful

In the world of material the pretentious preaches jurassic
sins such as 'you are what you have:' it’s truly the blind
Leading the blind into the darkness as the proud deceitful
sit high upon their worldly benches committing neoclassic
crimes against man in the newest ways with their maligned
tongues that slay the truth about a child’s mind like dreadful
reprieved that irritates the living with a voracious evil eye.

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