Passing Time

Twisted reality in a fucked up land
Working on its last grain of sand
In a broken hourglass of time
Where asking for change has become a crime
And children go to bed hungry at night
While on a corner, wingnuts fight
Over a 40 that they found
That now lays broken on the ground
Like the teenager's spirit lying in the gutter
Whom to himself has begun to mutter
About his alcoholic mother
And the convicted felon known as his brother
And how his life is devoid of hope
Which is why he turned to dope
And sold his soul just to get high
Now passing time just waiting to die.

-Casper