Broken Arrow

It's the doers that will do something in this world The past it haunts with a heavy presence those idle souls they sat back as the future of the next generation is stolen the calling card boils down to those that breathe fresh air remembering a quote which held me in thought That peace was the enemy of memory the wicked stand confounded framed by deeds there is a spiritual war taking place backwards moving forward how far down the ladder do we go before stepping up hate devours love examining the truth if it were to turn face respect has lost all communication when fighting this beast unrepentant it suffers the agony throwing bitterness to the fowl when it crows it worms its way around sympathy wicked it claws for acceptance never seeing guilty as justice it hides with the sloth always seeking but never finding on the tombstone carved once bitten twice shy here lies the remains of a broken child whom sold by actions a nation down the river