wipe the tears from your eyes jilted child,
this gilded living quarter, short of the change we need
why weep?
dry your sad and puffy cheeks,
they know not what they speak;
of death as inspiration and gender identification
idle tongues tickling their own asses
don't break those rose coloured glasses for their visions
you would not want them;
these are the haunted
a pain sits crow cocky on chipped shoulders
across nations painted in blood and frozen skin
we are all living breath of sin
take it all in and create your joy
for this wicked and wanton world only knows its own sightlines
and you must make a smile out of shark's fang
bring a song from burned car tires and abandoned hope
play in the aftermath of tragedy as if only a child of blindness
but see for yourself;
why weep?
this is the company you keep in the tired hyde of history
that you wait for the wretched to speak
as if their anguish and colourful language could change anything
sing for your supper and stay true to the distance
if the sun kissed the moon tonight
you were right
and we all fell back into hell...
waiting for another beautiful massacre
to thrill the bloodthirsty scavengers of society
reward your inner child
dry your eyes
and smile
like a smashed plastic clown
waiting to drown in sorrow
tomorrow;
write something for possibility.
Adding your comment: