Reservation poem 2

They are turning off the tap to the fountain of youth
Inching it imperceptibly closed
You’ve seen those taps in the plumbing beneath
Where only the assassin goes

They are turning of the tap to the fountain of youth
That spouts in the Garden of Eden
Atlas holds a nuclear bomb on his shoulder now
They collect the blood he is bleeding

They turned off the tap to the fountain of youth
With their hands in their sleeves they go puff
Are they printing out money to buy themselves things
Well they really can never have enough

They turn off the tap to the fountain of youth
It has sprouted plenty for the now
They jump in their cars and drive through the mud
Passed the old barn and the rusted plough

All of that stuff about the fountain of youth
All harnessed up like an oil field
Young hearts that flow into oil drums
Equality bartered by deals

It’s harvest time for youth again
They’re sure to make you some money
You can send them abroad to do great things
They will make your life more sunny

You can sit there amused by their sweat and tears
You can steal their Olympic fire
When it’s over you can return to the vault
And converse with the idols of liars

Author: blackbird212012

I am interested in multimedia work: songwriting, art, and creative writing. I have been involved also in theatre and music performances.

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