W.A. Adams

Don’t want to be hurt by Jihadist
Don’t want to be scared anymore
You say it will cost me my freedoms
Well, I’ll leave them outside by the door

Take all the ones you have to
Leave me the ones I can keep
But please, don’t take my cable
I need it to get to sleep

With my TV guide by my pillow
Remote control in my hand
The Master of four hundred channels
I pretend that I’m still a man

With the only two choices they’ve left me
To hold my eyes open or closed
I hang on for dear life to the only thing left
My God-given right not to know.

Posted on February 22, 2013, in Rymes, Where This Road Goes and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink. 2 Comments.

  1. Your poetry has a certain grain of gold in it. This comes from having been there.

    Keep writing!


  2. About “Master Of All I Know”

    I don’t kjnow who to credit this comment to, but I first heard it from Earl Nightinggale.

    “We must view with great respect the infinite capacity of the human mind to resist the inroads of useful knowledge.”

    Amazing it is to see men fear with such force they are paralyzed into doing nothing.


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