Colin F. Jones

YOU BELIEVE

You believe what you’ve been taught;
You are no different to all the rest,
Who grew up being taught by teachers,
With something to invest.
You’d think differently if raised in China,
Or had been raised in Vietnam,
You may well have been a pigmy,
Either a woman or a man.
You think the way you do,
Because someone crammed it in your head,
Be it bullshit or all true,
You ate all that you were fed.
And like me I’ll say of you,
When you die you will be dead.

At best your thoughts are guesses,
From where you came you have no clue,
And those priests in fancy dresses,
Know no more than me and you.
It is left for us to speculate,
To hope and yes to dream,
That death will bring good fortune,
In a place where we’ve not been.
Oh yes! And to believe,
That a heaven there must be,
That death will not deceive,
Our great desire to be free.
That death we do not grieve…
Because life is eternity