Ball And Chain

Our manners have been corrupted by communication with the saints. - Thoreau

we're all pimped w****s to this man's fallen world

'til our asses grow old and saggy

our once innocent, pressed robes baggy

our chicken necks craggy

our fig leaves wrinkled

our once full bags of chips empty and crinkled

the last of our holy water long since sprinkled

waiting for someone to erase the stain

for someone to ease our soul's pain

someone to remove the damned, rusty ball and chain

as we impatiently long for free will's flag of virtue to once again fly

full mast and unfurled

Author's Note

"Why the jailer does not leave open his prison doors, - why the judge does not dismiss his case, - why the preacher does not dismiss his congregation! It is because they do not obey the hint God gives them, nor accept the pardon which he freely offers to all." - Thoreau