Red snow laden trees and stuff
Bunnies on road with tiremarks on them
There is a girl in the pond
Floating, bloated and angry
The words of prophets are written on the walls
Of my city, in my blood, with my bones
I am waiting for rapture, or a riot
With my pockets full of stones
All these men want to hug us
Into a corner and keep up there
This is my country. This is my country?
In love and war, nothing is fair
I'll take a walk around these snowed up streets
While the eyes watch and ears hear me
I know they are there, there they are
But I am too afraid to point and see
Friday, June 3, 2011
If we dream and die alone
What else can you say
About living life alone?
If nice to be in company
Till it gets too much
Suffocating your life force?
There is no power in numbers
When a man fights, he fights alone
Or walks the long road home?
There is shame in seeking peace
When chaos is all you know
Where else can you go?
Still trying to put my thoughts together.