The poets found beauty in sorrow and wine...

You can listen to this composition performed and arranged by me here: https://www.realrocks.ru/wijk/music/2101371/


They sold it as treasure in velvet and gold,
With guarantees neatly committed.
You carried it home, doing just as you're told,
The catch had been quietly omitted.

They welcomed your birth with a chorus of cheers,
As though you'd been perfectly fitted.
They measured your future in decades and years,
The invoice came duly submitted.

The doctors prescribed you ambition and grit,
Each dosage precisely computed.
They smiled: "With good habits, you'll surely stay fit" -
The prognosis remained undisputed.

The preachers declared there was purpose and grace.
Each of them was fairly elected.
Yet Eden still struggles to argue its case,
Appeals have been firmly rejected.

The wealthy bought bunkers, the poor tougher boots,
Each certain they'd somehow outwitted.
Death watered them all like botanical shoots,
No claimant was ever acquitted.

We polished our resumes, chased every dream,
Collected promotions and raises.
Our triumph looked grand in the bright light of day,
But we didn't yet know the prices.

The poets found beauty in sorrow and wine,
The scholars in manipulation.
Both swore they had captured the final design,
Reality, simply impatient.

The teachers said knowledge would set your soul free,
The textbooks had all been rewritten.
The questions grew larger with every degree,
The answers were carefully hidden.

The lovers cried "Always!", the cynics cried "Why?"
I am perfectly sure that they need it!
Time answered them both with the very same sky,
No preference was ever exhibited.

It's like in a mousetrap a piece of cheese,
Where every temptation's permitted.
Life is a terminal scary disease,
That’s only sexually transmitted.