It's funny...sometimes at night
The pain alone keeps you up
About the all too real cruelty
Of the world, that would take
Us young, and lascerate us
Slay our wounds, while we
Cry helpless parentless at this
Such an hour, no help, no aide
Not in these halls...Then smiles
on us, and asks us to recover
Like nothing happened and it
was of our own doing, our own
siblings say, yea, yay, sniffle
Bump, our own siblings think
and it's about jackasses and
elephants, and locks on trees
spider webs spunt, I bless them
All still, I say lord, bless them.
Christopher Baird 2011 ©
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