... some more unique poems from Bill Textworth, with original music: PAGE 2

Okay, now we have your funds,
You paid in full and so the crumbs
of courtesy that you once expected
were history when you elected
to sign the contract, sir.

Just wait your turn till we call,
Read the sign – it's on the wall.
It's not our fault if we can't cope
Computers down, the systems broke.
Zero Tolerance is our rule, sir.

The deal, you see, is that we would
Reduce the service if you should
Make a fuss or worse complain,
So now you lose, as we gain.
Please just keep your cool, sir.

Just wait your turn till we call,
Read the sign – it's on the wall.
It's not our fault if we can't cope
Computers down, the systems broke.
Zero Tolerance is our rule, sir.

We've become so large and slick
And we can use each legal trick,
So if you hate our platitudes,
You must change your attitudes
So sit back and relax, sir.

Just wait your turn till we call,
Read the sign – it's on the wall.
It's not our fault if we can't cope
Computers down, the systems broke.
Zero Tolerance is our rule, sir.

Can't you see I'm really busy,
No time for your petty tizzy.
Don't you moan or cry or yelp,
I'll just ignore your cries for help.
I won't tell you again, sir.

Just wait your turn till we call,
Read the sign – it's on the wall.
It's not our fault if we can't cope
Computers down, the systems broke.
Zero Tolerance is our rule, sir.

Corporate giants use this con,
The store that served you now is gone,
Public service aint no more,
As we're covered by the law.
Come back tomorrow, sir.

Just wait your turn till we call,
Read the sign – it's on the wall.
It's not our fault if we can't cope
Computers down, the systems broke.
Zero Tolerance is our rule, sir.

Zero Tolerance - toe the line,
Intimidation by design,
That notice is saying you
Are now stuck with what we do.
And we don't give a damn, matey.
      

Start up the car,
Turn the music on,
And turn myself off.

Turn on the TV,
It's only company.
Another hour to be
Empty.

Must we go on
Wasting away?
Searching for anything
To fill each day.

Turn on the phone,
It's my virtual home,
As it calls me to buy it,
I just gotta try it.

Talking on and on,
With my virtual friend,
Keeps me from thinking,
It's nearing the end.

So I go on buying
What I am sold,
Never stop trying,
To do as I'm told.

Distraction – that's our thing,
And together, as we cling,
To what is given, we always miss
The truth behind the world's abyss.

Why can't we see
What we were meant to be?
Creative seekers are not repeaters.
We gotta take action,
To avoid the distraction.