Make this bed of roses
full of thorns they scorn
from the things they try
to say that beautifully adorn.
I’m just like everyone
I like kicks for tricks
because the sky falls
down in a ton of bricks.
Tails spins for me
at the flick of a thumb.
That’s why I used to
drown everything and numb.
Leave a trail of crumbs
for the devil we do for him.
Leave a scent of blood in
the water we do for the big fins.
Everyone has vices that taint
the paint of our tapestry we draw.
From the visceral scars we are
from the journey of life we saw.
Eras they change a mind,
we just pick up pieces left behind
from those before us that we trust
and it contorts the inner mind.
Take hold of something
a grip it slips into oblivion.
Sometimes a father might say,
“You are not my son.”
Taught from out of Egypt,
the stones their thick crypts,
they speak of granduer
they last all time for dead scripts.
Shallow waters keep safe not
the innocent from what past’s taught.
The grapes of wrath they taught
that the past people have forgot.
Forward we must press for us
to survive it gets harder everyday
to keep up with the kids that
find new words on which to play.
The earth is dying and I’m trying
to remember my name the same
way they used to know if before
the door was kicked in and it changed.
Steeples of people run at chaos
over nothing at all they want us in awe
of things they think we care about
that at our souls should gnaw.
My being my spirit is cold
from the things my forefathers
taught me about I learned fast
from others that their stories alter.
Yet we must land in a land
the plane where the earth is plain.
Sometimes we must see things
from our own damn membranes.
RMC 