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LLillis Dec 2017
Salt streaked blacktop cage,
defining your future plight.
Dear... must we go in?
LLillis Dec 2017
Eight billion people,
call this planet home.
Eight billion people,
all of them alone.

Arbitrary borders,
divide and define.
Who belongs where,
who's on which side.

Propaganda and lies,
hatred and fear,
accompany those borders.
"You're not 'From Here'".

They shout and they rant,
"Protect us from harm!
Protect us from monsters!
who work on our farms..."

Save us from humans!
That are really just the same,
but they look a little different,
or have a "funny name".

Every human is flawed,
We dig our own graves,
Eight Billion people,
Who do not want to be saved.

We have come so far,
but we have to do more,
to be better than primates,
looking for war.

Eight billion minds,
That think only of one.
And how they can prosper,
alone in their fun.

Religion and Government,
forms of control.
That tell you to fight,
for country and soul.

The heathens that march,
against the life that you made,
must be destroyed!
It's the only way!

Build us our bombs,
our weapons in space,
expand our borders,
war is a race!

Money and lead,
power and greed,
These are the things,
we are taught to need.

Complicated desires,
from animalistic wants,
pollute the whole planet,
by "draining the swamp".

We call ourselves modern,
With our dollars and glass,
but our future is as dismal,
as our most recent past.

A species divided,
is one doomed to fail.
And there's so much to lose,
with a world this frail.

Are we together?
Or alone in a crowd.
A decision must be made.
and it has to be now.
LLillis Dec 2017
Crisp white crunchy snow.
A silently falling haze.
Snapped twigs/ birds take flight
LLillis Dec 2017
A tight hand grasping my spine,
Crushing my lungs and stretching time.
A heavy weight compressing my chest.
Nightmare’s perch, her chosen nest.

Sleepless nights with jaw clenched tight,
Grinding teeth and knuckles white.
A silent night unless you strain,
Is that noise real or just my brain?

Am I broken or just afraid?
Scared of the night, before the day.
Must I sleep to find success?
I wonder as I fail to rest.  

I suffer in silence I cannot find,
The constant noise of a restless mind.
Internal, external, I am not sure.
All I know is this constant stir.  

As I try to sleep and listen close,
I force my ears not to host.
The last few sounds of the ending day,
and those near by that would have it stay.

— The End —