A Song Yet to Be Sung

I think I’ll write
A song yet to be sung
I think I’ll craft
A fad yet to be set

Feed one hungry mortal
For every beer you have
Give an old shirt away
Every time a new one’s attained

Castrate the rapist
Maybe lynch him too 
Some crimes can be warranted
Ask the weed smoker

A liter of cola a day
He weighs a hundred and ten kilos
He’s the couch potato
He should keep fit

Governances rule the world
I’m told where I can and cannot go
I wish to see, all that can be seen
Another lifetime, I might not have

A song yet to be sung
A fad yet to be set

Image by Digital Photo and Design DigiPD.com from Pixabay