Here and There
i stand a broken man, unable to focus and
pay attention to the days aggression when we're holding hands.
im blaming vengeance, our age is precious, trying not to lose it.
listening to your veins repression, and struggling to call it music.
listen to your silent pulse, and hope for an instrumental
waiting for what i divulge, praying these kids accept you.
i count the first rose, dedicated to your innocence
i doubt the worst blow will ever hinder your ignorance.
denim jeans blessed with keen outlooks of life
i bet you've seen the death of queens as the hook that you write.
i count the second rose, sacrificed for your purity.
boundries infect your prose, a complete diet of poetry.
mindless emotion leads to inevitable changes,
im trying to breathe, but have you reinvented the pages?
i count the third rose, not hindered by your puddles of pain.
i found the bird holes that have littered the subtlest place.
allow me to jump in your angst, touching the planes
of love that we aimed to keep under our tame.
dust can't complain. it keeps us all company
i count the fourth and fifth rose, but can we
ever harbor the kids who dove for the blood money.
screaming clean murder, and they indeed have heard her.
i count the sixth rose, given in need of your benevolence,
what precedes the acceptance is freeing my exodus
beneath the genesis lies a road that never stops
.. two links to have this reopened.
- Atty
