“It’s a dog eat dog world”, so they say.
“No time to think! No time to play!
Lie and cheat and steal and slay!
It’s natural” — so they say.
“The Law of the Jungle is take it all for you.
No matter if you rust the sky of blue.
No matter if you kill the trees; pollute the breeze.”
So they say.
The greediest few would hew to death each living thing;
No longer use mere megaphones to amplify their voice.
They’ve bought the wires, satellites and airways too.
Not just a megaphone—a zeta-phone an omni-phone
To scream that deadly dream—a constant stream
That teaches every hour words of hate and take and kill.
Bending you and yours to evil will, their wordy shrill:
“The only thing worthy of your love is More and More and Most.
If you don’t own a gallon of gold, you don’t deserve a drop.
Live in the cold. Eat the old. We’ve got the most which proves we deserve.
We’ll capture and pretend to conserve and serve.
We’ll tell you lies while we steal what little you’ve got left.
Might makes right and we’ve got might.”
So they say.
The silence is the sound that kills.
All that’s left, so they say, are cheap and cheaper thrills.
Money bends all wills.
So they say.
The silence is the sound that kills.
Allowing cancer yet to grow
And spread from head to foot to heart and soul.
Because the story that they tell compels.
The rot in food and air just hides the smells
“It’s all for the best, just wait and see.
Sure, we’ll have a few lean years but who cares?”
A rocky desert, lifeless sand, and endless smoke
Await the winners of this race to death.
“It’s not cancer, not at all!
We’ll all be better! Don’t you see?
It’s best when everything belongs to me!”
So they say.
The silent screams of deadly dreams.
The silence is the sound that kills.
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A Pattern Language for Cooperation
petersironwood 