What's Your Price

What's Your Price

A Poem by Jerry Doran

What is your price?
Now that we have gone far beyond the pale, anything is for sale.
Nothing is sacred anymore.
All of our hopes and tradition have been swept clean off the kitchen floor.
The neighbors are busy next door.
Feverishly working towards what lies in store.
Possibly a pretty palace on the lake shore
However in reality they're only striving toward another day in the grind, nothing less and nothing more.
The American dream is like a unpicked apple now rotting at the core.
Once full of nourishment, now a withering part of the orchard.
The delemia of daily life has taken its toll.
We are forced to sell out bodies.
We are forced to sell our goals.
As a boy when I was told the stories of old; I never thought the world would run on liquid gold.
Day after day we get in line.
Precisely following orders from the hands of time.
Not wanting to upset the onward motion of the assembly line.
We trudge through the mud pretending everything is fine.
Along the path we reach and grasp.
But there is nothing left to hold on to.
We have sold our homes.
We have sold our bones.
We have sold our forests and lakes.
The truth is we have even sold some things we cant really own.
The few control the many.
I cringe as we scrounge for nothing more than pennies.
The land we live in once had plenty.
Yet at this point in time it is mostly blank and empty.
Mother's have mouths to feed.
But we're starving for the seeds.
The plow rusts as the once lush fields bleed.
In the midst of it all the majority will not concede.
Yet its hard to gain much from the struggle when the means to gain wealth are few and far between.
We take what we can get and commute enough that our families are rarely seen.
At times for some it seems debt is all that's left to claim.
Denial soothes the throbbing pain.
We can sell everything around us to try and stay afloat.
But the more we sell, the more we choke.
Before its too late we must remember not to sell out hearts and souls.
Because after all their the only things we could truely own, and all that can give us hope.

© 2008 Jerry Doran


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Added on May 3, 2008
Last Updated on May 3, 2008

Author

Jerry Doran
Jerry Doran

Scranton, PA



About
My name is Jerry. I'm from Scranton Pennsylvania. I graduated from Penn State University with a degree in criminal justice. I enjoy writing and look forward to comments from other writers to help me i.. more..

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