Statistically it should have happened by now

Statistically it should have happened by now,
But since there may have been an issue
With the research used on this occasion
The possibilities are endless. A misuse

Of figurative anal-isis, and here we are
Up that creek with nothing to steer
And noting to guide or progress us
In any meaningful way, I fear

That the future no longer is bright,
Rosy or clear, but instead the darkness
And unforgiving gloom that envelops
The news media harkens

A period of depression and despondency
That could only light up a soap opera
Or contribute to the repertoire of a blues singer
In a way that a love song becomes a cropper

When sung without feeling or expression
Or in the heartache of a breakup
When concerns of loneliness and
Illusions of a make up

Inveigle themselves in our minds
And drill into our thoughts and dreams
Dismantling all hope and foretelling
The end of all the streams

Of promised lands and manna
That keep us sane and human
And contribute to the society
That we frequent and live in.

No matter the cost that we afford
No matter the time that spend
Because when you add it all up
Statistically, this is the end.