To commit atrocities
In the name of love
Such monstrosities
Causes steps of
A cautioned hush
The presence of those returned
Warriors- gentle brush
Bloodied hands that burned
The lives of love
To return to their own.
The release of doves
Cannot absolve your trail of bones.
When you draw your knife,
Think of your wife.
“Harris is a communist,” My grandfather protests.
“Better a communist than a felon,” My father shoots back.
There is a swirl of color that accompanies all things.
Every twist and turn, every fall and failure. All words spoken and sung, every smile or laugh.
Run for your lives
The night will catch you
You can run faster.
—
Problem with living
Commitments to the dead
Cannot be escaped
Comments
Log in or register to post comments.