Young Veins, Old InjectionsMature

We fill the young veins
with the things
we dream of
we fill them
with chaos
with peace
with purity
with love
and hope
hatred
and despair
we fill these veins
with the blood
we wished
flowed
within ourselves
but some people
poison
these veins
with a darkness
we cannot escape
what then,
are we?
to these young lives
we so rely on?
we envision our dreams
with the children we use
to ensure them
but we are not careful enough
to ensure
the safety
of either.

The End

8 comments about this poem Feed