Can you hear it
gasps of breath a song
can you see it
dancing white on poor black
can you smell it
the black stench of
a corpse dead within
injustice in the utopia

Can you hear it
the pleads of black corpse
a plead for humanity
Can you see it
the utopian paint being peeled away  
away
can you smell it
smell truth being spilled over
can you smell it
can you smell new layers of paint being
put over the brief truth

t h o u g h t s
r  u  n    s  c  a  t  t  e  r  e  d
l     i     k     e         l      e     a     v     e     s
n                    o                          w

l   e    a     v       i      n        g
           o               n                   e
l o   s        t

R  u     s   h   i      n   g     a     r    o   u n     
u   n      t     i       l                  
g.        o.      n.          



e.

.

this website is now
my procrastination space
save yourselves while can

Whichever fire passed along
is long gone
its ashes lost or camouflaged
in ground stained
from red rain

Regret stinks along the
battle ground aeons later
shock frozen onto
wherever their faces had
not been marred

fight for glory
die unknown
fie the enemy
until one in state

the price of heroism
a never ending audio
of fellow screams

from red grow red
honour the names
written in dirt and ash
and blood, to be trampled over
by desperate comrades

names tethered
to the ground
layer upon layer
drowning in each other
'till forgotten