Tuesday, April 26, 2011

Walking Home

The peaceful silence of night,
abound in round turn arounds and
bugs in flight.

The ba-humbug men crawl from shadows and
honk their noiseless horns and
cry into the wind,
"We are the sky!"

No one listens because no one cares,
as long as they're home in bed by 9 with
food in their bellies - apples and pear.

I yell at you
I cry at you
I shout and scream and decry to you -
come forth and spare us your
unsacred lust
and make all the just unsuffer.

A lone wolf cries and we are all gone.

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