The sky is falling

im flittering and fluttering
this is the outside of my mind
a contraption so unlikely its more than likely
to capture the eyes,
kids high in suspension; young
and eager for attention
playing in the middle of the street
toy guns and rifles
till; scattered along the grass at five oclock
and its time to escape an hour of dinner and
reconciliation;
theres never not a fight to be fought
 with fists and guns
because we are the world of ammunition
and gun powder is never low in stock;
another sheep following the flock
a galaxy of ripped up poetry stars
and hooked on phonics televising the wars
we are at apathy;
worried and scurried from and to


and it doesnt matter if you're alone
or if you're high.
the sky is still the sky
even when it starts to fall.