Dedicated To the Human Race: Thanks For All Your Time
There, just beyond that dream. There’s my life ripped at the seam.
Then there’s my friends, the pot-heads and dope feens.
And there’s a hole, in the dark; void of light; missing a soul.
Glowing with ambition. Growing in shame.
A blur to sight, a mentality of pain.
There, just beyond what’s real
You’ll never know just what I feel
And here, are my sins…Scabs of dirt, that’ll never heal.
My pain has a taste, like rust and copper
Like copper and rust, I steadily waste
A constant reminder, of what I’ve lost
Oh just what you’ll pay for trust. Just what is the cost?
The fire is in the human head. We’re the reason of our falling
And already fallen dead. For the “tree” is gone.
We’ve choked her, and she was never fed.
Like untamed weeds, we’ve sucked her dry
Though we carry on, mutating our future’s seeds
Now look into my eyes, see what’s written on my face
Our true lives are gone. We’re just a dying breed out of place.
Here…Right here…around and above
I’ve gone blind in my search for unconditional love
So I hope you remember. I hope you can recall
Yourself being the symbolic death of Peace; a fallen dove.
I’m sorry for you. I’m sorry for “us.”
I hate that the truth leaves confusion,, and not knowing what to do
There once was something here, that was of color, for lease
Then rented, used, and destroyed.
So I hope you’re happy, PHukcers, how you’ve disrespected our deceased.
Copyright © Robert Addington Wells | Year Posted 2006
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