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Writer's pictureHans Ebert

The pen is mightier than the sword

The pen is mightier than the sword 

Until it runs out of ink 

That’s when that rainbow connection  

Becomes maybe some place for a drink 


Nothing being said makes any sense 

Nothing is leading anywhere 

All I can see is that little girl lost

These days she’s got a vacant stare 



Remember waiting to grow up?

And to be old and wise?

But no one told you then

That shady eyes blink twice the lies


Words are very easy to say 

But the truth is hidden inside 

When the going gets too hard to fake 

Watch the piggies go inside and hide


Pollyanna is still weeping 

And singing the same old song 

It’s sounding like

the boy who cried wolf 


One too many times 

It’s all sounding tired and dreary 

There’s no hint of dopamine 

The songs are all sounding


just like cheese whizz 

And every day is a bad dream 

The chords are just clunky 

And cluttering up the truth 

Maybe that’s because it’s all lies 

More lies said as distractions 

Think it’s time for dinner 

And time to eat some 

humble pie


Copyright ©️ Hans Ebert 2024

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