The Brown Envelope

I got that envelope that's brown, it came in mail this week,
“Get O.A.S. if you apply, (to rules they gave a tweak);
Got CPP some time ago, but this is called “old age” –
Like jokester said, “We're young inside, and wonder at our stage”.

I got an envelope one time ’bout fourteen years ago;
The lady laid it on my life, inside it said, “Heave-Ho –
Don't want you around our group no more – so you can take a hike”;
The reason? – “any one will do – it's you we do not like”.

The envelope was white, I guess that stood for purity,
At least I figure in their minds no smirch was there to see;
“The pure in heart will see their God”, I guess they've got some view;
Respect for them? it plummeted when acts they ‘had to do’.

Such hypocrites appalling are, they make me want to wretch;
They act so sanctimonious – much lower they can't get;
They strut around so full of selves they cannot seem to see
How foolish they appear to us – myopic as can be.

They love to feel the angst as they harpoon some other whale,
But in the end they do their deeds – prefer the calm to gale,
For they don't operate too well when someone makes a fuss –
Like when they set aside the rules – enforced to have “just us”.

De Tocqueville, he had it right, three hundred years ago –
Americans light sentence give so down that road they'll go;
Not hold selves back when they dislike what public figures do,
They turf them out (just a wreck their lives) and bid a fond adieu.

In other places penalties are higher – but they're loath
To bring things down upon their heads – await the fire, not smoke;
But these folks do not hesitate at rumours, squawks, or fuss
They shoot their guns – get ready – aim, “talk's good enough for us”.

Though now I understand why God had me sit that one out;
I learned a lot, the move was good, its value not in doubt;
I find this day – Good Friday now – it's fourteen years since then –
I find it all comes flooding back – I feel I'm in a pen.

I'm not – more like a rat in maze which cannot be resolved,
It lies right down in apathy and will not stay involved;
Or flees in jar with lid of glass – they give up getting out,
And sit inside when lid's removed that opens up a route.

It's strange, it simply won't resolve, not sure just why that is;
I've lots to do, I've done a lot, it's lost most of its fizz;
I wish it would just go away – please open up my eyes
O Lord to what the problem is so I can then arise.

Good Friday was that hopeless day, no intervention came;
They crucified You, Jesus – though the grave you overcame;
But life on earth was over, Lord, in spirit you arose,
And got around quite well without your body, sandals, clothes.

That was unlike your ancestor – like Isaac and his dad –
Abe saw the light in nick of time and future life they had;
That does not happen every time – like on this day back then,
For You and me – it's permanent – (not ultimate) – but end.

So like when envelope arrived which indicated loss,
Loss of a road I thought I'd go if I had won the toss,
I find it hard to focus hold and keep out of the past –
Again this is Good Friday and I've landed on my ass.

navigation