You can hand the gun to a soldier
Train him to point and shoot
But when you put him on the lines of war
His first reaction wont be to carry out an execution order
It would be to kneel and pray in the middle of disorder.
People are only as good as their nature
The past is the best of their character
Because nothing else matters
When the life they hold scatters
There is no need to articulate your disappoint
When me and pain are sure to anoint.
Because you asked me to bleed blue for you
But I held yellow instead of true
Teach me of purple and grey
Except my bounds hold to hues of hay
Clouds rain and reign
But my sun and sky are not to feign.
My wrists chain me to the wall
Dripping of exhaustion burning tall
My head drives to the floor
in it hides my imaginary door
My way out, sense of hope
The titles that bear claim and help me cope
Because if I couldn't
Than surely I wouldn't
And that, I would never obey.
YOU ARE READING
Words from a Dishonest Poet
PoesiaWelcome to my story, my quaint book of poetry. Look inside for many rhymes of fire, cocaine, and even a little bit of truth at times. There is no plot to follow, or any lengthy narrative to swallow. Just a short collection and tidbits of my mind'...
