On that day when I was asleep,
The world thundered beneath my feet,
And when I woke, I woke as a victim.
I slumbered that night as a partisan.
We all saw the signs, some just chose to ignore them.
They sewed up their mouths like a torn dress' hem.
But when they came in the night as they had said,
Suddenly they were now losing their head.
A tough choice to make, I found myself wondering,
Is hatred inedible? A matter for pondering.
If it is so, then it sure wasn't here,
Where bigots ate hatred with a side of their fear.
Each lie's a confession, every lie is a win,
But shoulders sink low with the weight of their sins.
They know what they're doing; there's no alibi,
Yet they'll keep on going until they all die.
Though I woke that day as an innocent lamb,
I drifted to dreams with a gun in my hand.
For I woke as a victim. So this I'll say too,
Sleep as a partisan, before they find you.
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sometimes
شِعرA collection of mentally ill poems about the world, written by a mentally ill person. Perfect if you're into abstract or freeform poetry. New updates come at random times, but expect slightly consistent updates at least once a week or so! Top 10 in...
