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here he lurks
behind a bin
eating a ham sandwich
with a rugged coat
and a beard to match.

here he lurks
behind a shrub
drinking some lemonade
which was sour and deathly
and his personality too.

here he lurks
behind a truck
closer now
as you can now see him
and he can see you too.

here he lurks
behind at your front gate
smoking a cigarette
and creeping closer
with each short breath.

here he lurks
behind your door now
no one was home
except for you
and he knew.

hes not lurking anymore
as you feel his warm breath on your neck
and a cold blade against your throat
with bittersweet whispers in your ear
and you didnt feel anymore.
Why must we cary on,
Why are we told to be strong,
Why do we fight if it a war,
i win each battle,
but i've lost the war.

How can i fight,
when i have no power,
How can i be the one,
Why must i be the one to fight,
When all i want to do is leave,

Why do we have friends,
when they are bound to give in,
Why do we bother,
fighting in the southern wind,
Why, Why must we?
In the front yard
Over toward the left
Beside the climbing tree
Under the branches of the magnolia
Is a garden of dahlias
And a pond of water lilies
Which is great for hiding a body
If the need ever arises

So what happens when Jill
Comes running down the hill
Crying to Mary and her lamb
About how Jack had laid a hand
On her now ever-present frown
Spinning her head round
Jill is bawling because she knows
For breaking Jack's crown she'd face death row?

Into the pond half the body goes
The other half helps to make the plants grow
The girls sit and talk over a cup of tea
When Jill ponders over the meaning of free
Certainly not the sirens blaring out front
This is when Mary stubs out her blunt
Wanted for suspected ****** with fear in her eyes
Poor Miss Jill would have rather died
She begged and she pleaded for some form of mercy
But she was tangled in a web of controversy
Little lamb taken into custody by law
Mary found face down in a bale of straw
Foaming at the mouth
***** plus pills equates to south
Hauled off to jail
And stomach pumped back from hell
The girls become shells of nothingness
Creating only emptiness
I apologize if I destroyed anyone's childhood
 Jul 2016 Levi Nicholson
Afrah
Land of the free
you seem to call it
But the freedom
only seems to fall
on one end of the spectrum
one side of the scale

And when the scale tries
so excruciatingly
to balance itself
When it comes crashing down
in an attempt to be heard,
to make a sound,

It is met with cries of outrage;
With a selfish victimization of,
“what about us?”
“don’t we matter too?”

but that’s not the point,
now is it?

The scale
isn’t screaming out any less
for the importance of
one side
by trying to give an inch of importance
to the disregarded other.


**Black Lives Matter.
I am so ******* sick of this. #BlackLivesMatter.

— The End —