and so the echoes of the resonating bell
when the metaphors fail to compose
give way for the ears of all to condemn
and they tell of the years they've spent locked
moving between cells and cages
the voice of familiarity seems so vague
and the ideas they bark are untamed
food for thought is food for body
meaty and fatty interspersed with crushed bones
slop for anyone but me
the vengeance carried and the spite favored
bloodshot eyes to go with the stained teeth
shunned for the bath i take while they do not shower
for what it is, there is much there is not known
the grudge i carry seems to poison all
but instead flows through them, not ceasing life
they share in the resentment
but yet we are called feral, brutish, diseases on humankind
and for what?
we share the land you do
we partake in the structures of society as you do
so i ask
why do you fear hatred?
do you think it incites complications?
do you believe it makes us abominations?
eat the bodies we do
taste the lifeforce stolen
believe in what you eschew vehemently
and ask yourself again
what are you so afraid of?
YOU ARE READING
I'll Be Fine (pt. 2 of 2)
Poetrypoetry showing my stress. relieving, coping, really. continuing to add poems, sometimes daily. use this as place to talk about your own frustrations and dances with pain and strife
