Email Poem

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Poem

can't point your finger of blame at me if its broken right
so would you like a broken finger or rib?
can't die from the joke your not telling that is killing you
would you like a broken rib or broken finger?
point and laugh if you must
at my broken nose
fighting for my rights as a human being

don't suppose I'll ever suppose

Blood all over my hands
scrubbing the floor
state of shock behind closed doors
blue revolution a suggestion

Guilty by assosiation
justified because of selfrighteousness
I could put myself in your shoes
dedicate my life to surrendering to me being the victom
paint over my reflection
so i could see what I want to be
find myself living beside myself
unable to keep a tidy bride
bribe the devil with my inner demons
full well knowing he loves the sin and not the sinner

Always closing off with a prayer
god to watch over you
as jesus finds his way to you
and the holy spirit to guide you
away from the wrath
I no longer have the strength
to keep at arms length

blood all over my hands
my blood
my broken nose
two men in uniform
broken finger?
broken rib?
whose the laughing stock?
the soulbound prayer hits back on judgement day
no paint over any mirror will cloak that illusion

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