a gentle breeze
moves
the pages of my book
as i sit outside
and watch
the kids play with stones
and sticks
and pose like heroes
in some ancient myth
cars ride by
with music cranked high
enough to rattle my soul
gold and green eyes
peek through the blinds
seeking
a route of escape
birds flutter and chirp
and build their nests
and still i fear
what happens next
when the peace is shattered
by bullets and bombs
and sirens drown out
my cries
Loyal heart and body broken soul ascension on hold dear Being of the Hereafter why is this world so...
flag bearer pressure to conform to confirm to fail to contradict sitting on my chest and i can’t breathe...
master of the crossroads hear the rattle of my bones open the gate and let me pass sweet grass...
i am in Hell the flames that blaze around me are centuries in the making mostly of my own...
so you want to be praised for the smallest of things flaunting those symbols of your slavery trapped in...
storm child don’t want to chase the rainbowsif it means i have to suffer though the stormbeing lashed by...
world is shaking walls are crumbling nothing i can do stand my ground hold my guard up pretend i...
this is… a poem this is not this is organized confusion with random spurts of clarity this is polished...
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