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.



The End

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