Sentimental Ballad of the Have-nots

Last night I got to thinking about how some people never experience life. They never worry, they never fear because they have everything they need. So here’s to the hardworking people in the world living paycheck to paycheck, working day in and day out. Raise  your glass to the fuller side of life.

People with their perfect little lives in their perfect little chairs sit in their corner and fade away

while the rest of us set the pace.

We run the race.

Their silver spoons pave their way

while their trust funds wait for a rainy day.

They never learned to barter or trade

all they know is life is made.

Made by what is what I ask?

The dirt on your hands and the sweat on your brow.

Not by the hands that made the plow.

Its made by the hands that pushed the plow and worked the land

and mowed the grass and counted the sand. . .

the sand that fell when their heart gave out,

when their kids ran away

and the earth was in drought.

While you sit around and count with your hands

the sand. . .

on your own islands.

Islands where the Haves have and the Have-nots laugh

because their joy is sweeter

and cry more bitter tears

and fear more fearful fears

and love more deeply than the blood that ties their hearts to land

and their hands to each other.

We all know the real man.

The man’s man’s man.

May the line that divides us never be crossed,

I seize my life

and yours is lost in the corner.