Ring around the rosie
pocket full of posies
ashes ashes
we all fall down
Sing around the secret
pockets full of deep debt
credit, credit
we all fall down.
Spring around the danger
prayers full of anger
rifle, rifle
we all fall down.
Dance around each other
foes instead of lovers
righteous, righteous
we all fall down.
Swimming through the darkness
choosing to be heartless
tight fist, tight fist,
we all fall down.
Pointing with our fingers
blame and guilt and whimper
ashes, ashes
we all fall down.
YEA!!!!
“The song remains the same.”
“Same song
Second (Third, Fourth, etc) verse
A little bit louder
And a little bit worse.”
“…How arrives it joy lies slain,/And why unblooms the best hope ever sown?”
“O me! for why is all around us here/As if some lesser god had made the world,/But had not force to shape it as he would…”
“When will we ever learn?
When will we
Ever learn?”
That’s fun to watch how you adapt and alter the rhyme and translate for our times. The plague is perennial, that’s what I hear, despite the times. Our own peculiar rashes, our own pyres and ashes.
I believe this to be your finest contribution. The muse, sad. The purpose, your most powerfully stated. Mourning. Yet defiant.