HARD RAIN

I'll give you something to dream on
with your dream catcher above the bed
an Indian summer
a band of wild Indians war whooping
and an arrow stuck in your butt
as just desserts for rooting for the
cowboys in those old western movies
when you were a kid

A hard rap on the knuckles
with a ruler
for every time you caught
fireflies in a jar
they died in there 
just so you could see
some twinkly lights
shallow child

There are only stolen moments of joy
(admit that now and you'll be free)
all the rest is just the tedium of life
as seen through rose colored beer glasses

Would you cough your life up
like a hairball
examine it
and swallow it again? 

And I want to see an epitaph that says:
Here lies ol' Bob
his life wasn't horrible
but it kinda sucked

I sometimes reflect upon
who and what I might have been
had I gone off to kill people
at the behest of some politicians
I was twisted enough as it was

I can't imagine
I can't imagine

But thank you for your service
thanks for defending our slavery

And the animals are marching
2 by 2
as if they knew
a hard rain's a-gonna fall