in the solace of the sun, which is no longer warm
where birds don't fly and bees won't swarm
a river of words, that flow swiftly through
the verses are pretty but it doesn't ring true
the hours out of joint cause the minutes won't tick
you and me baby in the middle of the mix
the cages are full of these costly renditions
the moldable minds that collect the admission
in the silence and rubble of long empty spaces
forgotten tombs and monument bases
here, once we walked, while we were still young
one ache was ending as the next pain's begun
this trench in my mind and midway through my soul
these cardboard encasements with so many holes
from this day forward, will we ever find peace?
with no one to lead us through this old disease
Poetry by M.J.B. is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License
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