Hail the thoughtless blinkered fools
One track minds without remorse
Living lives on one-way streets
They keep their ‘My Way’ only course
Never looking for the untried way
Ignoring broad street avenues
Preferring routes in worn out boots
Stuck in the mud of ‘Poor Me’ blues
“Doing only what we always do”
Fearing situations strange
Just in case they lose their comfort zone
Blind to brand new calls for change
Thankfully they’re happiest
In prisons cells of repetition
The self-imposed who never diagnosed
Fresh ways to alter their condition
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