Things. Buried deep. Too deep to remember. Too deep to have a direct effect. Too deep to recover.

Things. Poisons. Buried deep. Leaking toxins into the soil. Toxins spreading. Permeating every inch of foundation.

Seeds. Planted. Sprouting. Pulling nutrients. Growing. Producing fruit.

Pulling nutrients. Pulling toxins. Plants unhealthy. Fruit unhealthy.

Unhealthy. Dying. Decaying. The only fruit available. The only sustenance.

Poisons. More. Soil saturated. Poisons spilling forth. Puddles everywhere. Growing.

Plants. Gone. Barren ground. Poisonous wasteland.

World. Crashing. Burning. Ashes. Nothing left. Dead.

And the knife. The ever present knife. With a sharp blade. With a sole purpose.

The knife.

The American flag
I hold in my hand.
Battered and torn
Still she will stand.

She has been to places
That I will never see.
She has flown for people
I will never be.

She has gone into battle
Long before my time
And will fly for our values
Noble and sublime.  

Though I don't agree
With all she has to say,
I am proud to believe
I will serve her one day.

I build my walls very high
High into a lifeless night
Where pain rules the darkened sky.

People who don't even try
Never will know of my plight.
I build my walls very high.

My high walls make blind the eye
That dares to perceive my fight
Where pain rules the darkened sky.

Sorrow only serves to dry
Tears of those who see my sight.
I build my walls very high.

When friends persistently try
My walls fall beneath their might
Where pain rules the darkened sky.

Once inside my friends see why
I make my pain seem so light.
I build my walls very high
Where pain rules the darkened sky.