The Choice
We walk through life
With blinders on,
Afraid to face the truth about
The things that now are gone.
We live our lives
Like we won't have tomorrows,
And we watch with level gazes
As they drown in all our sorrows.
We turn our eyes away
From other people's pain,
And then we tell them:
'hate the player, not the game'.
But we are all players
In this game of life;
We all make the choice
To ignore the rampant strife.
We could feed the world
With the food we throw away,
And we could save a thousand lives,
If we'd just give them all the time of day.
But we keep our blinders on,
Because we have no wish to see
That the choices that we make,
Affect our right to be free.
And though we claim that
Our sword is in its sheath,
The cries of dying men
Fill the air we breathe.
Yes, though we say that
Our road is one of peace,
The blood of innocents
Flows on down a river that won't cease.
But still we keep our blinders on,
Safe in our cocoon of lies,
And we will still be trapped in there,
On the day that our world dies.
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