The way of the world, our current paradigm, is mus-guided.
Less gilded is the age we inhabitate.
A mandate here, and contraband there.
We are all thought-criminals.
Carving our initials in the wall
Of a prison system built so tall.
A fading memory,
a fleeting glimpse,
of a time once golden
with no other side to the fence.
Green grass, and grassy pastures
plagued the land.
The year was 1999,
when MacGyver was President.
Less gilded is the age we inhabitate.
A mandate here, and contraband there.
We are all thought-criminals.
Carving our initials in the wall
Of a prison system built so tall.
A fading memory,
a fleeting glimpse,
of a time once golden
with no other side to the fence.
Green grass, and grassy pastures
plagued the land.
The year was 1999,
when MacGyver was President.
