A life can be tossed or rolled down the hill
When it reaches the concrete ground – is there life still?
After being pressed and torn up without a single care
After all of that destruction, is this even fair?
By the time it’s all said and done – nobody has won
Love and hate is already inside of the gun
No one seems willing to pull the trigger
Fear starts to grow stronger and BIGGER
The fetus position is invited for a safer swallow
There they began minimizing themselves in a paper like hollow
When troubles aim to roll us up like a fat blunt
Are we still backing up our integrity from the front?
Historians have written down this story for you to read
It’s up to you to make life a good deed
Or this can simply be another relic in the ocean
A story hardly capable of stirring motion.
Posted in: Poems, Prose, and Songs