they say she flirts with it all
she's even knocked on the door of death
and stared him back in the eye
but deep down she's worried about
what you're what they're what she's thinking
about her
and if the shadows aren't enough they
have to go and add the rainbows
and the suited ones can tolerate the rain
doesn't matter to her though its all the same
the torture of the different melodies
last night the opera this night the strings
suicidal tendencies
trembling fingers bloodstained rings
and she does all this just because she's worried of what you
think
masochists and
politicians
my moms got eyes in the back of her head
or so she's said
and i have to create myself inside their boundaries
their limitations
i have to eat their creations swallow my pride
to make up for their mistakes
take me for a walk tonite
thru burning parks
and we can listen to the tortured melodies
of lost family members as they scream
as malicious enough as it is
its not bad enough to be fixed
so we all sit behind our small wooden desks
and let the ones with the big desks
designate our lives
when did we learn to forget and accept
lizard tails and pony
tails
children in the backyard
gazing into their drunken eyes
brewing of fear and curiosity
striking images turning into fists
pounding softly upon the table
crackling furniture pieces of yesterday destroyed
listening to the same song the bird sang before
broken records
dancing hypocrites knocking on the door
watch yourself your back is turned
then the melodies begin again
all too familiar
cant help but to sing along
they nod in disapproval
waiting to shake your hand
characters from long
ago
old westerns tv shows
my character is long played out
disappeared like all the rest
popularity died down before it could surface
shut out knowingly or not
they let me keep my distance
you know my name and face
you don't know me
this charade is all for you
I'll let you believe what you want
you let me fear the reactions of their wretched souls
i back down for you let you win it seems
and you never looked back
couldn't even wave at me
thank you.
poverty is just in my
head
they go round and round and sometimes they'll end up dead
so i'm swimming in this pool of blood but its starting to turn
gray
and i wonder who's blood this is who ended up this way
chicken shit and lollypops candy apples bloody clots
wretched children on the floor begging for no more
and then the clouds release their gifts pouring down on the
innocent
what will time take to heal
cant remember when they got their last meal
museums and equality take time for the rich
hurry cause they're suffering
i think she broke a freakin nail
now how can she live
shuffle in the laundry bags
release the rats at will.
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