Lost Advice


The dead might tell us many things
But living ears hear nought
Save that which may bear fruit
Or some spiteful tittle tattle
But true life learned wisdom
Cannot be passed by lifeless lips
Save those scant pearls left in print
And stored upon dust filled shelves
Untouched and buckled
And more's the pity for it
The living must tread with care
During these treacherous times
While the wisdom of those passed
Festers into maybes and might nots
That truth stands we somehow choose
Blind eyes turned away in fearful bliss
In hope that some other ears might heed
To save us as we bow before our media gods
While the pleas of a dying planet
Fall as tears upon a parched ground
Our gods now shun their barren altars
As those that passed scream in urgent chorus
To waken us from our pantomime

... before it is too late

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