proper lesson

the journey we've begun has no right end

or so we think since all our hopes are wild

for there are many motives we'll defend

though not all of our charges are defiled

by hatreds of the sort that you reviled

when speaking in plain justice of the fact

that none of us come through the world intact

each of the winners learns just how to bend

the moment that she stops being a child

while he who's wise knows best just to pretend

a temperament that's always calm and mild

just so the watching eye is safe beguiled

none of these matters is at all abstract

keep this in mind and you won't be attacked

not one of us can think now to depend

on those who might be honourably styled

our champions we can't call on one friend

whose name is not in the red record filed

to live full grown and not die as a child

that's all the purpose we will not be wracked

but others must be seen to live and act

the occupation of the hour

what memory paints is never truly told

yet what we find are more than ghosts of care

since every sunset turned the green trees gold

we do our best to praise and not to scold

to bring about a time that is more fair

what memory paints is never truly told

there was less good in crazy days of old

when crudity and harshness were laid bare

since every sunset turned the green trees gold

we thought less then of hearts cruel and cold

ruling a world in fetters of despair

what memory paints is never truly told

but now the tale is starting to unfold

the outline's wholly visible out there

since every sunset turned the  green trees gold

there's no more talk of how much has been sold

nor or the price to put upon the air

what memory paints is never truly told

since every sunset turned the green trees gold

distorting mirror

when the past does not fade and disappear

we're forced to confront it to face the pain

of solid memory to feel all again

within each mind something in the dull air

weighs down upon us with the weight of care

while every face reflects the groaning strain

and total terror that we can see plain

when nothing's left to mankind but raw fear

the once safe garden now becomes a cage

by our own efforts  for we are so dense

we cannot see the function of a wall

is to hold in not just to keep out rage

that justice functions better as defence

and isolation leads to the last fall

those dead yesterdays

life is best measured by the hopes we burn

through those dead yesterdays none could forget

times when the fattest were the most sharp set

which ended we wished would never return

still this is what each of us pays to learn

from that hard teacher whom we name regret

the many ways that life is overset

and those lost gifts for which we will long yearn

so let the drum beat none of us will leave

without a turn upon the judgment seat

so we gain wisdom from the hard result

although our purpose was not to deceive

we're forced unto it by the long defeat

which strips us of all reasons to exult

answering the tyrant

the thing's the same once you've told the story

putting the planet into normal mode

you've won power but never truly glory

you know it all is just transitory

each of us goes a short way on the road

the thing's the same once you've told the story

whether the ending's peaceful or gory

each must arrive at the one sole abode

you've won power but never truly glory

of no import whether whig or tory

for you the process is in no way slowed

the thing's the same once you've told the story

only message here's memento mori

the human network down to one last node

you've won power but never truly glory

answer now in words that are not hoary

explaining how you cracked the final code

the things the same once you've told the story

you've won power but never truly glory

colour of morning

no echo now but in the dull grey light

see passing birds that pause and watch us feed

our satiated faces lacking need

or understanding in their urgent flight

of what exactly is the human plight

or when our hunger turns into stark greed

the passerine just seeks an errant seed

and a safe place where it can spend the night

the human does not show the passing bird

this truth of life that everything's the same

since all of us make up a single cast

we're subject each of us to one hard word

as players in the sole eternal game

each doomed to pass in time into the past