I stared once at this box
With a golden pink sign
"Femininity" it said
And yet the box was black
A sealed and hidden front
Pry it open? T'was quite hard
I know that this Pandororos' box
Holds some treasure at the top
I dread however, all the rot below
I think often of this box
All the treasure near its top
Creativity, care and justice
Pandororos - all the gifts at the top
And I still dread, what hides just below that top
Blood and tears, bits of flesh
All the rot below the top
Mar 19, 2023
Mar 19, 2023 at 7:37 AM UTC
The skies turned gray
The rain shattered your soul
You walk aimlessly
Hopelessly
Longing to be
With the rebels
Who brought colors to the world
Desperately
Your eyes are searching color in the gray
All they see is red
A hungry
Wrathful color
Filled with pain
And dejection
You beg to see a different color
One of joy
One of hope
One of light
The grey grows tiresome
In the night
The colors will soon glow
Aug 18, 2021
Aug 18, 2021 at 3:23 PM UTC
The sky turned red
Then sunny hues of yellow
It turned black
But soon the light came through
A decade of torture
A decade of pain
Culminating in the moment
When the skies turned red again
Screams of joy
Screams of grief
Rebels gathered strong
In piles of tortured souls
Finally screaming
Finally free
You watch the revolution from afar
Although you know you brought it upon
A world of misery
Culminating in the moment
The revolution
That lasted a decade
The sky turned red again
Then yellow
Suddenly it was dark
But soon the light came through
Aug 18, 2021
Aug 18, 2021 at 3:22 PM UTC
Teach them holes are for hiding
And they'll hide
They'll hide and cower
Cower and cry
Once danger strikes
In their holes - they'll hide
Crying, pleading
Hoping it'll pass them by
Teach them holes are for hiding
And don't expect them to fight
When danger strikes
And they're stuck in their pits
Hiding
Cowering
Crying
Hoping
Aug 18, 2021
Aug 18, 2021 at 3:18 PM UTC
They say the city has no landscape
No life
Nothing but concrete
Nothing but steel
They say that
Without ever looking
At the city
In the night
Feral cats
Squirming bugs
And although the trees are small
They loom over small unlit paths
Lonely dogs
Flying moths
And although the buildings are imposing
They too are part of it all
They're our homes
And the homes of rodents
Pigeons
And even more squirming bugs
The city's not dead
But we are
Aug 17, 2021
Aug 17, 2021 at 10:31 AM UTC
One, two, three
Silver coins
Silver scales
Four, five, six
They go down
One by one
Seven, eight, nine
In a bucket
Plucking them out
Ten, eleven, twelve
Blood and pleadings, cries
Squeezing wounds and lies
Mar 15, 2021
Mar 15, 2021 at 2:07 AM UTC
Gathering Gifts
For a Goner's grave
For his parting breath
For his one and only death
Throw them in the pit
Where he is
Where he took his life
Where he jumped right in
Toys
Clothes
Diaries
And Letters
Everything he owned
Everything he cherished
In that hell hole it shall go
In that fiery pit
"Fire? But it's just dirt in there."
Yes, it is just filth and grime
But not until we commit a crime
Strike a match and make this grave
Ashen
Mar 10, 2021
Mar 10, 2021 at 1:31 PM UTC