A poem got lost in here somewhere…

I was listening to some Spoon, and a particular song inspired an idea for a poem, so I started writing.  Somewhere in the midst of writing it though, it lost its way…  Anyway, I'm posting what I have for now just as record to come back, hopefully to correct where it seemingly went awry and to finish it.

Tentative working title is "Writing in Reverse"  (similar to the Spoon tune, "Written in Reverse"), though this would likely change if I ever get it fixed.

if you could rewrite the story
tell it in reverse
would it be better
or would it be worse?

And what of the beginning of the story?
Do you think you know?
are you near the beginning?
and does it show?

did your ending deserve the attention?
was it worthy of acclaim?
did it bring you honor,
or only shame?

Will the intro grab the reader,
inspire him to read?
is there a compelling story
to which you can lead?

into the middle
where the plot thickens
it can inspire admiration
and sometimes it sickens

you're in the heart of it now
how fast are you writing?
is it with passion
or with yourself are you fighting?

Poem: Intrusion

The constant noises of man
Ever intrusive
When heard in the wild lands
Can feel abusive

Encroaching ever more
To once remote lands
Making everything similar
And everything bland

Wanting ever more
His greed knows no bounds
To where can one go
If he wishes not to be found?

At some point it must be realized
That expansion isn't progress
And if we want to move forward
We might, in fact, have to regress

Poem: Primal Scream

The anger building
A nice, rosy rage
Can't escape the feeling
Trapped in a cage

With no one to blame
No one to chide
Off to the mountain
He goes to hide

He ascends the mountain
With a simple plan
A simple action
That will free the man

Letting it loose
A primal scream
Releasing the stress
And living the dream

An action so raw
So juvenile, so wild
Setting aside the man
To be a child

But alas, the scream was not to be
It wasn't needed
The action meant nothing
He finally conceded

Seeing the beauty of life
He could finally see
'Twas merely the thought
That set him free

So he returned to his home
No longer surly and mad
Able to return for a spell
To being employee, husband, and dad

Poem: The Smoker

He smokes
He chokes
He fails to appreciate
His part in his early demise

Hurting those he loves
Hurting those he hates
Yet he never hesitates
To question if it is wise

The grip of the addiction
Blinds him to the affliction
And he doesn't begin to see
That it holds him like a vise

The day will come
Where he will succumb
And how many years lost
He can only surmise

He smokes
He chokes
He slowly goes broke
Until one day he dies

Poem: Captains of Industry

Captains of industry
Destroyers of man
Make you a profit?
You bet we can.

My air and my water
Suit me just fine.
You say yours doesn't?
Well, don't think you'll get mine.

Your health and your safety
Are not our concern
If it makes us a dollar,
We'll let the world burn.

By the the people, for the people
Sure is a nice thought
But didn't we tell you?
Your government's been bought.

Draining your coffers
While claiming success,
That spending on the poor
Is the true excess.

Down with the people
Up with the corporation
Only your enslavement
Can bring our emancipation.

Captains of industry
Destroyers of man
Make you a profit?
You bet we can.