Saturday Evening Special

If the World was Fair

by Alex Mobley

if the world was fair

i would be the mayor

the one who calls the shots

the one who plots the spots

for things to start anew

when everything has come unglued

from the downfall of all kinds

to the revival of the signs

that this will work out for the best

instead of praying to be blessed

if the world was fair

I wouldnt have to stare

she would automatically assume

I wanted to be the groom

and her to be my bride

to stand side by side

as we accepted our small bands

placed upon each others hands

forever we would be

together just you and me

as simple as it sounds

the answer you have found

it doesn't end up great

for that is not our fate

alone we both shall stand

apart in our own dreamland

if the world was fair

i'd be the tortoise not the hare

slow and steady may win the race

but the one who controls the pace

owns the title in this town

placed upon his head a crown

from past successes at the top

never slowing when told stop

thus the leader he shall stay

until someone finds a better way

if the world was fair

i would be a billionaire

not struggling just to get by

with bills five miles high

of expenses that wont be paid

without something I could trade

for my soul would be taken

if I were not mistaken 

for somebody with clear sights

to reach the highest heights

instead of trapped under a lie

I will have til the day I die

if the world was fair

I might accept that dare

challenge myself to be great

stray away from all the hate

coursing through my veins

straight into my brains

releasing it to the world

as it was hurled

back into the face

of those who have disgraced

your name for their own gain

so they could rain

down on your parade

while you disobeyed

everything you were told

no longer am I cold

if the world was fair

I might sit in the chair

taking the verbal abuse

as I become the accused

for a crime I had no part

a villain from the start

stuck with the feel of guilt

the case they had built

made me seem like the crook

my whole world shook

rooted up from underground

all the way til the final sound

not guilty was the claim

no longer to be blamed

if the world was fair

I might actually care

that my life was getting better

while typing every letter

that makes up this simple poem

still I must show them

what is the reason for all this

to which it does consist

of everything I had dreamed

from weeks old it seemed

what is it you wonder?

the sky you must look under

for it holds the simple truth

the answer is in your youth