There is a man on the moon, crates cover his face
He constantly pondered about the human race.
He would watch them struggle, witnessed their rise and fall
He realized that it is the rare man that is able to stand tall.
He shared their joys and endured their tribulations
He watched the destruction of nation after nation.
He saw that there is little good and a lot of bad
He seldom regretted the life he never had.
He was safe in isolation, away from the angry crowds
And had a spectacular view from above the clouds.
He heard the silent cries of the many, and the hysteric laughter of the few
And the man on the moon felt helpless. He didn’t know what to do
Earth will never know peace so long as it is plagued by selfishness and ill will
With people who’d die for the all mighty dollar, and live for the kill.
He heard the outcries of the oppressed, sympathized with their blood sweat and tears
He recognized the sadness that had accumulated year after year.
He was disgusted with the chair that ruled with violence and anger
Blind to resentment, and deaf to slander.
The man on the moon watched man for centuries, dig their own grave
And prayed that one day earth would be saved.