Censorship For Our Own Good
The concrete is rough
He acts so tough
But it’s the softest thing he’s felt in a long time
The buildings are too sublime
A silver bullet would be a crime
He’s never been fine
He already tried the scent of pine
Others suggested rhymes
His watch says it’s almost time
Time to change this ebb and flow
Time to cross the lines he’s always known
To be his home
He’s always alone
It’s better that way
He used to go to church to pray
But he got caught up in the havoc
Of life, his ears filled with static
He opens his eyes
No one sees him cry
They tell him he should try
So he tries something new
Something that tastes blue
Which is better than grey
He won’t even have to pay
The sun is too bright
So he chose to do it at night
Where he can fight
With himself in the cover of darkness
Maybe this is craven
Nevertheless, he seeks a haven
For the first time he feels okay
This is where most people would pray
Not him, his god died long ago
Killed by the demons he can’t show
Instead he implores the cars
That they move quickly under the hidden stars
I take a deep breath
Not looking as I step into oncoming traffic
Make sure you warn your kids; this next scene is graphic.
Copyright © Tess Christian | Year Posted 2016
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