Living Things Are Dying Thieves
Living things are Dying thieves
When my legs turn cold
Sing only old songs all day
When my eyes deny sight
Hold my right hand and walk with me all night
Take me to places I have less memories with
Take me to places where breathing is a restriction
When kids ask my silence
Answer them that the old man will sleep a little longer,
The legend will open his white dyed eye at the end of the tunnel
The legend died twice, and the third time promises a resurrection
When my beloved ones drop tears
Tell them to unlock and shelf under my bed and grab spears to fight back their fears
They will only fight peace not for peace
They will tear themselves in pieces and never pick the pieces of their strength
Their blood might stink before they see this well
Tell them mine did as well
Their tears will dry even though it does, it will dry again
Their cries will not be loud, will not be loud again
And when my face disappears in humane memories
I will be the shadow along your ways in thy wilderness
I will not only remember you and them
But you with them
I will not miss, jokes and fun
But jokes with snacks
I accept soil deserves my cruelty
I at least fought for other’s liberty in the cell in leave you in
I fought depression which later on won my heart
I fought affection which later on destroyed my hat
Tie my Ph.D. in my chest
As I go for and long enough rest
There are things I might come back for
Images of pyramids that made my force
My mother, a woman in her early thirty’s
I admit I running closer the judgment Queue
Do I really have a clue?
Yet the blue sky veils broad smile of clouds
I loved coffee, but I can’t wait to lie in that coffin
Not this coffin but that coughing
The coughing after you realize
We are nothing but dying living things
Down, down I’m going
Lower, lower it is I’m drowning
This face might float as a boat
As thieves, lucky is the day we are caught is the triumphant
(By John Kazadi)
Copyright © John Kazadi | Year Posted 2020
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