by John O'Shields II
Again
The pulsing, pounding, growing
skull expanding rage of knowing
this development of frenzy
isn't mine and never will be
Again
I sit against the buildings
Feeling nothing, wait for healing
But still the sound of rage keeps rolling
Toward my peace like whores exposed and
Again
There's nothing I can offer
Still, a coin's left by the coffer.
Skin dissolved from holy contact
never mends.. and my bones show that.
Again
This ultimatum's given
Damn, I'm tired of this living
under plagues infecting morals
And what's with all the pointless quarrels?
Again
Your side accuses ours
Soldiers die. A show of power.
Universal pissing contest.
Did genocide replace the fist?
Again
I stand and scream to leaders
Bring back fisticuffs, it's cheaper
than digging graves for sons and brothers
If nothing else it spares the mothers
Again
It all becomes too hectic
Pray for peace but can't direct it
Where's this god we're trained to follow?
And if he's real why'm I still hollow?
Again
I spill my soul on paper
Black ink drips but never shapes words
All because I'm simply giving
up on all this two-faced living
Again
I lay my head against
a pillow in the box I rent
And softly I ask for forgiveness
Glad she's not awake to witness
Again
I close my eyes and dread
the carnage left inside my head
The body parts and screams of anguish
Relieved that I don't speak their language
Again
Familiar faces taunt me
Bullets hiss while victims haunt me
And in the din of tortured screaming
There's always one who seems to reach me
Again
I'll beg for his forgiveness
God, if he could only give it..
But I'm distracted by the sound
of my flesh ripping...I'm on the ground
Again
The sunset looks down on me
And the ones who've fallen with me
And we all bled in one accord
Though some bleed less and some bleed more
Again
The dream begins to fade
I sit up straight to shake the haze
My clothes are thrown on less than careless
I'm usually not aware of all this.
Again
I'll spend the day just musing
Over things that cause soul bruising
I'll probably sit against that building
waiting for some sort of healing
Again
The pulsing, pounding, growing
skull expanding rage of knowing
this development of frenzy
isn't mine and never will be
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