Blackened skies, above all else seen –
A trail of tears marking the places I’ve been.
The sun is gone, the moon is hung; high above, to mock everyone.
There are no words for the terror I’ve seen.
Enslaved by the treaties of an out-dated breed –
My bloodline pumps truly disgraceful to me.
No stronger flow than the one I know; asunder, reaping havoc below.
Not quite sinking the way I would like to
I’m something much less able to advance, to produce.
I am adrift: the San Andreas slip-shift –
There is no belly on this Earth large enough to swallow my shame;
There is no ocean that can salt my wounds clean.
It’s lost on me –
Again, you see me with nothing else to give the world;
Its lost to me – the average mean.